Round and Round
by Sybil Rowan
Summary: Ken x Crawford, Crawford is lead to take the subway and ends up encountering Ken right before a botched robbery. Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

Title: Round and Round

Author: Sybil Rowan

Pairing(s)/Characters: Ken x Crawford

Rating: T

Summary: Crawford is lead to take the subway and ends up encountering Ken right before a botched robbery.

Warnings: slash

Author's Notes: This is written for the 'FicTicTacToe' community on Live Journal. My competitor is my hubby, WingedPanther73. We're posting these to our Live Journal blogs. My prompt is #9. "I wondered home, saying your name."

Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz, its names and characters belong to Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiss, Marine Entertainment and Animate Film. Named after a New Order song by the same name.

Beta Reader/ Opponent: My wonderful hubby, WingedPanther73.

Word Count = 1,874

July 25, 2010 8:58 pm

"Ken Hidaka. And to think. I wandered home, saying your name," Crawford addressed his cell phone. He smiled slyly, knowing it would be mere minutes before the young man would call him for the first time. Before the ring, he recalled his crazy morning where he learned Siberian's real name.

* * *

Crawford hated crowds, and he hated being in a rush. He clenched the _New York Times _under his arm and pushed his way onto the tightly packed subway car. If it wasn't for a vague vision the night before, he would have taken his beloved car. The premonition urging him to public transportation came as he sipped a glass of dark, red wine; the vision wasn't complete, but he knew better than to disobey it.

There was only standing room so he grabbed a handhold dangling from the roof and fought the drowning sensation as people crowded around him. Even after two years in Japan, he still couldn't get used to reduced personal space. Fortunately, Takatori's office wouldn't be too far down the line.

He was jolted forward into a high school girl who glared at him. He turned around just as the train lurched. He was trapped against a young man by a sudden press of bodies. He'd seen this young man several times before, but not in this situation.

The young man's expression was nothing but wide-jawed shock; for a few seconds Crawford didn't recognize those eyes. They were so large, pure, and kindly in this blood-free environment.

"What the hell are you doing here?" the Siberian growled, trying in vain to pull back from Crawford's chest.

"It's public transportation. I'm perfectly entitled to its use," Crawford said, forcing aplomb over his irritation. Siberian shook off his slack-jawed expression and adopted a hostile posture.

"My friends know where I'm at, and you'll never get away with whatever you have planned," Siberian said soft enough for only Crawford to hear over the clattering noise of the subway car.

"What makes you think my plans for the day have anything to do with you and your cohorts? You may find it hard to believe, but I have other, more pressing issues at the moment," Crawford said, unable keep from a sardonic tone.

Crawford was truthful. He had worked steadily to embezzle millions of dollars from an electronics firm to prepare for the moment Schwarz could move against Takatori and Essett. He wasn't about to waste his energy by pointlessly engaging Weiss before it was time.

"You've been too quiet, lately. I think you're up to something," Siberian insisted with a harsh glare. "We'll find you out and stop you."

"One of us, I hope, will get off soon. Until then, if you keep your mouth closed, I promise to do my utmost to ignore you," Crawford said with a harsh-edged to his voice. Siberian's lips drew to a thin line, his nose crinkled slightly. Now those eyes were harsh, passionate, stubborn; they were the eyes Crawford knew from the Siberian.

He hoped, in spite of himself, to glimpse that soft, unguarded expression once more. He gave a derisive shake of his head, thinking that Schuldig was right; he needed a hobby. Maybe a new toy to distract him while waiting for the time to destroy Essett. After all, Siberian could be a useful toy.

The train slowed. The young man lurched into Crawford's chest. The Weiss assassin slipped to the side, but Crawford caught the flustered Siberian. His palms pushed against Crawford's chest, but it was futile. They were shoved against each other again as people exited and entered.

"Let go!" Siberian snarled, struggling against Crawford.

"Hush! Be still!" Crawford ordered, gripping the young man tighter. Something caught the younger assassin's attention. Crawford felt the Siberian's body melt against his. The Weiss assassin's breath slowed; Crawford felt it tingle against his check.

A premonition hit Crawford hard before he had a chance to look into his eyes. He was on top of the young man, and they were locked in a passionate kiss while Crawford struggled to hold him down. The vision suddenly broke.

He pulled away now that the subway car was sparsely occupied, but the door swished shut on the Siberian before he could slip through. The car lurched forward, so Crawford took a now empty seat before he was tossed to the floor.

He looked over to the Siberian who clung to the handhold above his head with both hands. He leaned forward slightly, exposing his trim midriff. Crawford mentally chided himself over the thought of taking this youngster as a toy; he would only end up annoyed at the ridiculous, puerile word games this Weiss assassin would offer.

He noticed the young man was dressed in a dark, faded tee shirt, baggy jeans, and worn sneakers. To Crawford's consternation, the Weiss assassin, with his mussed brunette hair and pouty lips, looked like he belonged on some glossy magazine pushing teenagers grungy, over-priced clothing from a shopping mall. The expression the Weiss assassin wore was riddled with confusion and something Crawford perceived as frustration.

Crawford straightened his navy, suit jacket and unfurled his _New York Times_. He pointedly ignored those burning eyes. It was no use. He found himself reading the same paragraph four times before trying to read the editorials.

Another premonition hit him. The three raggedly dressed men in the corner were going to wave guns around in a clumsy robbery attempt. He saw Siberian turn in time to be shot through the chest. He would lay dead, instantly, at Crawford's feet. Then they would slaughterer the other five passengers, toss Crawford down on the floor, and start to beat him mercilessly because they would be under the impression he was rich.

The vision faded. He had no time to think. He had to upset the chessboard, now, and draw a new, random situation.

"Siberian!" Crawford shouted and jumped on top of the young man seconds before the bullet hit. They lay in a tangle on the floor. Crawford glanced over and watched Siberian roll to his feet again. He was pleased to see Siberian's training kick into high gear. The Weiss assassin was now in a crouch with his narrow eyes trained on the three goons in front of them.

"What the hell?" one of the men shouted in surprise. The other passengers all screamed hysterically and ran to the back of the subway car. Crawford gave himself over to his clairvoyance ; it was now driven by adrenalin. His body felt as thought it was on fire as a white haze filled his peripheral vision; he was now seeing everything a minute before it was happening. Two of the men were about to fire at the other passengers.

Siberian took his lead; he and Crawford launched themselves at two of the gunmen before they had a chance to fire. The third gunman, that stood in the middle, shouted and jumped to the left.

A piercing scream cut Crawford's concentration; his mind slammed back into real time with a painful jolt. The third gunman shouted, "Let them go or I'll kill her!"

Crawford turned to see the man held a struggling girl, not yet five years old, in his arms. The child's bloodied grandmother sobbed and pleaded at the man's feet. Crawford knew if he and Siberian pressed it, they would all end up dead from police snipers at the end of the subway line. Surrender was the next choice his clairvoyance goaded him towards.

"Wait! Don't you dare hurt that kid!" Siberian shouted, tossing aside the man he had subdued. "Just let her go and stop scaring her!"

"Fine! You too, fancy businessman," the gunman said, addressing Crawford. He let go his hold on the gunman he had tackled. The three men kept guns trained on Crawford and Siberian.

"No more playing hero! Hands up! Hitoshi, go frisk them."

The gunman who Crawford tackled went over to the Weiss assassin first and patted him down. He got a wallet from the baggy jeans and looked through it.

"This guy's name is Ken Hidaka. Nothing important. Just a bunch nonsense and about three hundred yen," the gunman announced. Crawford's head snapped around to see Siberian, Ken Hidaka, looking over at him as if were totally vulnerable now.

"Are you kidding? Don't you remember? Take a good look at that face. I remember him now that you said the name. He's that ex-J-Leaguer that used to throw soccer games because of a bad gambling habit. I lost a lot of money on that last game he threw. He's all washed up now," the gunman with the child hostage said with a nasty glower at Ken. "Check the other one! He's some rich foreigner, I bet."

The man named Hitoshi frisked Crawford, who remained still as he removed his wallet and some documents from his inner suit pocket. "This one is Bradley Crawford. He's listed as a financial liaison for several companies. He's an American!" the man shouted, waving Crawford's passport.

"Good. He looks like he's worth a lot of money. I have a change in plans," the gunman with the child hostage said.

"What are you saying, Suka?" Hitoshi asked.

"We take the American hostage and ransom him. For some good news publicity, and a little revenge, we take the gambling addict. We'll slip out the back door and leave up the stairs at the next stop," Suka said, losing his grip on the sobbing child. "Okay! Hitoshi, tie up the American. Ako, tie up the gambler."

"With what?" Hitoshi asked.

Suka pointed at Crawford. "Use his necktie and belt, you dolts!"

His two men came at Crawford and removed his tie and belt. Hitoshi twisted Crawford's hands behind his back. His own silk tie choked his wrists, while Hitoshi chuckled in his ear.

Crawford looked over to Ken, who's wrists were being tied behind his back with the belt. The younger assassin kept his eyes downcast as he passively allowed Ako to bind him and shove him down to the floor.

* * *

Crawford pressed the receive call button and said, "You ended up with my wallet. I'd recommend you return it."

Long silence reigned before Ken's voice said, "Yeah... I didn't take it on purpose."

"I wasn't accusing you."

"I'll put it in the mail," Ken blurted out. Crawford heard the embarrassed rush.

"No, you'll meet me. I do owe you an apology over Schuldig's rude behavior while he was rescuing us." There was silence on the other end; Crawford deduced Siberian must be really bored, or have a death wish to indulge this call. Crawford pushed the intrigue. "I'll even buy you dinner."

"Where?"

"Bella Notra. In two hours. Be there or I'll show up... Mr. Hidaka."

Crawford chuckled at the sudden click and dead air over the cell phone. He put his own phone away and called for Schuldig. The redheaded German poked his head in Crawford's office at their high-rise apartment.

"I'm about to put your games to shame."


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Round and Round, part 2

Author: Sybil Rowan

Pairing(s)/Characters: Ken x Crawford

Rating: T

Summary: Crawford is lead to take the subway and ends up encountering Ken right before a botched robbery.

Warnings: slash

Author's Notes: This is written for the 'FicTicTacToe' community on Live Journal. My competitor is my hubby, WingedPanther73. We're posting these to our Live Journal blogs. My prompt is #4: "I've been thinking about this for a long time."

Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz, its names and characters belong to Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiss, Marine Entertainment and Animate Film. Named after a New Order song by the same name.

Beta Reader/ Opponent: My wonderful hubby, WingedPanther73.

Word Count = 2,327

July 25, 2010 8:58 pm

Ken examined the glossy card with unfamiliar English words on it. He tried puzzling it out, but several words made no sense. A driver's license of some sort, Ken figured. He wasn't sure which state Nebraska was, but it was odd to think of Crawford coming from a state that wasn't New York or California.

The license had an old photo of Crawford when he was twenty-three; Ken noticed it expired in September. There was also the passport with tons of stamps from all sorts of countries, even ones Ken had never heard of like Kazakhstan and Liberia.

The next items he removed were credit cards: Platinum Visa, Master Card, and Discover. Ken let the hard plastic slip through his fingers and opened the wallet again. He fished out a parking pass from New York and another from Chicago. There was also a library card from Virginia and another one from for Maryland. There was also a private club membership from Los Angeles. He shook his head, not able to piece together a story from the random items.

Ken never liked to think about targets having whole lives; it made things messy for him. The idea of a Schwarz member having a life, he liked even less. It made Crawford a little too human for Ken's taste.

"Ken! Lunch!" Omi shouted. Ken jolted upright and crammed Crawford's things under his pillow. His face flushed with guilt over his theft. He took a deep breath and told himself gaining information over an enemy wasn't a bad thing. Youji used to make a living doing what he had done this morning.

He did feel guilty, in spite of his effort to justify his behavior. After all, Schuldig shouldn't have pissed him off by trying to kill him after the rescue from this morning's craziness. He had snatched Crawford's stuff on the way out of the warehouse to turn it over to Kritiker, but he had kept it instead; it was a blatant theft out of spite at this point. It was a wicked compulsion driven by curiosity.

"Ken! Didn't you hear me?" Omi asked, knocking on Ken's door.

"Yeah... yeah... I heard you," Ken said, opening his door. Omi cast Ken a concerned look and shook his head.

"Are you sure you're okay? That business with the subway hijackers this morning had to have been pretty terrible." Omi said. "The police didn't question you for a long time."

"Yeah, thanks to Manx. Some how she just showed up and took care of everything after I got to the station to report the whole stupid thing. Listen, it was pretty terrible; I'm just not hungry. I just want to rest a few minutes and then take my shift," Ken mumbled, itching to finish plundering through Crawford's wallet.

"If you're sure? I can work for you," Omi offered. "Or do you want to talk about it? You haven't said much. I mean, they're starting to report it on the TV."

"What! What are they saying?" Ken was startled, picturing Crawford's name on the news next to his. That could lead to an awkward situation with Kritiker.

Omi gave him an analytical look. "Nothing. Are you sure you're okay? That situation would have even rattled Aya."

"I'm fine! I promise! I'll be down for my shift in a minute. Just give me some space," Ken insisted.

Omi nodded and left. Ken shut the door and flopped on the bed. He kept remembering random things from the morning. In particular, being pressed against Crawford in the subway. He was dismayed to realize Crawford's spicy cologne had rubbed onto his tee-shirt. His face warmed with the vivid memory.

* * *

Ken cursed at the third vase he had knocked over and shattered on the tiled floor. He grabbed the broom as Yohji groaned and shook his head. Ken shot Yohji a dirty look as he swept. He glanced over to Aya, who was giving him an openly, irritated look.

"Take the trash out, since you're blowing our budget on vases," Aya snapped.

Ken glared, but started gathering up the full trash bags. He slammed the door on his way out to the dumpster in the alleyway. He tossed the trash bags in and then emptied pockets of used candy wrappers and old receipts. His hand froze when a business card came to his fingertips.

It was Brad Crawford's two-sided business card. He had carried one with him after finishing his exploration of the rest of Crawford's wallet. A perverse thought of stalking Crawford this weekend had crossed his mind. Now another thought crossed his mind.

He glanced over his shoulder and took his cell phone out of his apron pocket. His thumb froze before he hit the send button. His hands trembled, his stomach fluttered. He kept his eyes glued to the alleyway entrance when his thumb pressed the button.

After three rings he heard Crawford say tartly, "You ended up with my wallet. I'd recommend you return it."

It took Ken off guard, breaking his illusion that he was pulling one over on Crawford. He launched his mind backwards to figure out how he got in this bizarre situation.

* * *

Ken shrugged off the hijacker's hand and glared. After a small police chase, several van changes, and a lot of shoving, the three hijackers had brought them to an abandoned fish cannery warehouse. They dragged Ken and Crawford to the back where they put them in an icy, walk-in cooler.

He explored the small, chilly room. The five racks were empty and the refrigeration unit above Ken's head was silent. The small room had no windows and the thick door had no handle. It was, naturally, locked.

"This sucks!" Ken shouted and kicked the door. He turned to watch Crawford, who walked to the back of the room and sat on the floor.

"Aren't you going to help me figure out how to get out of here?" Ken snapped after he stalked over and stood in front of Crawford.

"I'd be more successful if you kept your juvenile temper tantrums under control," Crawford snapped back. Ken felt himself taken off guard for the second time today by the American assassin, the first was when Crawford had caught him from falling on the subway.

"I guess you're trying to call them," Ken said, feeling more nervous at the idea of being rescued by Schuldig and Farfarello than staying at the mercy of some street hoods.

"You say that like I'm using a Ouija board," Crawford said, wearing a disproving, yet superior, expression. There was something Crawford didn't like about what Ken had said; the man seemed offended by something. Ken didn't understand, and he really didn't have time to figure it out. He knelt down in front of Crawford and looked into his light, brown eyes.

"Why did you save me back there? Not that I'm ungrateful, but I thought you would have let them kill me" Ken said.

"It was self preservation. If I wouldn't have saved you, I would have been beaten to death," Crawford said. "I figured you'd be somewhat useful."

"Gee, thanks," Ken said, ill-concealing his sarcasm. Just as he thought, Crawford was focused on self-preservation, not any type of nobility. Ken shifted and sat three feet from Crawford's right. He said, "Let me know when you get a hold of Schuldig. Okay?"

Ken looked over, but it was as if Crawford was in a deep trance. Those light, brown eyes were out of focus once again. "Great! What else could go wrong?" Ken asked the ceiling.

* * *

Schuldig was irritated that Crawford had nothing lined up for the next five days. He was getting so bored hauling Nagi to school and babysitting Farfarello. He was flipping the TV absently when a news report caught his attention.

"_It was horrible! The three gunmen just grabbed those two men and left,_" a sobbing, elderly woman explained, clenching a small, weeping girl to her chest. A male reporter flashed on the television screen.

"_Two men were taken hostage by the three unidentified gunmen on the South Line's 7:30 run. Police are searching..."_ Schuldig turned the television off with the remote and hurled it against the wall hard enough for it to shatter. That was Brad's subway.

"Those three idiots will wish they were never born when we find them," Schuldig mumbled. He shut his eyes and reached out his mind. _:Brad! Where are you?:_

_:Finally. I guess you saw the news? I must tell you the Siberian was with me and is being held here as well. __This ironic situation has lost all of it charm, so I'd appreciate it if you would hurry __along.: _Crawford thought back.

_:Don't worry about it. I'm bring Farfarello too.: _Schuldig thought. He then bellowed for the Irish assassin.

The pale man appeared. Schuldig then ordered, "Get your things. We need to rescue Crawford and kill off an obnoxious Weiss trouble maker."

"Sounds like it'll be a fun afternoon," Farfarello said with a toothy smile.

* * *

Crawford jolted back to consciousness and looked over to Ken Hidaka, who was watching him intently. The Weiss assassin's chin rested on his knees while his tanned arms were wrapped around his legs.

"Schuldig and Farfarello are on their way," Crawford whispered. Ken's face turned sour. "Fine. Stay with them. I don't give a damn," he said coolly.

"Last time I saw Farfarello he tried to smash my skull in," Ken said dryly.

"Like I said, we have other projects that concern us more. You'll be free to leave after they get here," Crawford said.

"Aren't you suspicious that I was following you," Ken asked.

"Not really. I know Weiss isn't that clumsy or dumb. It was merely coincidence," Crawford said. Crawford smiled at the flush he cause on the young man's face.

"How long until they get here."

"Twenty-three minutes."

* * *

It seemed like hours, but Crawford was absolutely correct on the time when the door sprang open. Ken got to his feet, wary at Schuldig's large smile.

"Well... well... well, Crawford! Making new friends?" Schuldig asked, walking over to where Crawford sat. Ken gave him a vexed look.

"Did Farfarello take care of my hosts?" Crawford asked, standing up and preening so he looked immaculate again in his suit.

"He's introducing your hosts to his cutlery collection as we speak," Schuldig replied.

Ken marched out of the cooler, leaving the two Schwarz to their own gloating.

"Where do you think you're going, Weiss," Schuldig said, drawing a gun and leveling it at Ken. "I've been thinking about this for a long time."

Ken froze, panicked and vulnerable. Then he smirked and swiftly kicked the thick, freezer door shut.

"Idiots!" Ken called out at the door. Before running off.

He quickly found Farfarello was busy punishing the hijackers so he snuck by as quietly as possible, but he noticed a table with his and Crawford's things on it. He scooped everything up and fled for the nearest taxi he could find.

* * *

Crawford loathed to resort to physical punishment like Takatori, but this was a special situation. His hand flew up and smacked the back of Schuldig's head soundly. The German dropped his gun and swirled around.

"That hurt!" Schuldig protested.

"You could have waited until we were outside of this freezer before you pulled your gun. Didn't I say to play everything straight?" Crawford snapped.

"Sorry. I'll get Farfarello," Schuldig mumbled, looking properly chagrined. Crawford started to pace a little. No, the Siberian wasn't as dumb as he first thought. That made a potential game with the young man even more intriguing.

Minutes later the door swung open again. To Crawford's irritation, Farfarello could barely contain his mirth as he let his two teammates out. Schuldig gave Farfarello a pointless punch in the arm, which only set the Irishman off into full scale laughter.

* * *

Now, to top off this crazy day, Ken was waiting on the sidewalk outside of the casual, yet upscale restaurant. He had never eaten here, so he wasn't sure what to expect. Then again, his dinner host alone was blowing his mind. The dark thought that this could be a setup played at his mind.

His mind was yanked away from those thoughts at seeing a red Austin-Healey pull up and park on the side of the road. Crawford got out. He was smoothly dressed in charcoal slacks and a dark brown shirt. He slipped on his jacket and joined Ken on the sidewalk.

He was taken off guard when Crawford held out his hand. Ken startled and fished in his pocket.

"Here you go," Ken said, handing over everything of Crawford's, alleviating his guilt. Ken was amazed that Crawford didn't check his things, but just tucked them away.

Crawford started walking towards the vine covered entrance of Belle Notra. He paused and looked over his shoulder to where Ken stared at him in astonishment. "I'm seriously hungry, so hurry up."

Ken suppressed a nervous smirk and followed him inside the dim interior with a posh, Tuscan flair. He didn't admit to Crawford he had never really had Italian food outside of pizza, but the aroma was enticing. He broke his trance and prayed his rumbling stomach wasn't heard over a bubbling fountain.

Ken couldn't seem to get rid of the tension in his muscles or his roving eyes. He kept picturing Farfarello leaping out at him. Or worse, Manx.

"You can relax. No one we know is going to show up tonight," Crawford said, picking up his menu. There was an eerie flash of candle light across those glasses. Ken started to absorb a paradox. Crawford wasn't trustworthy, but his premonitions were.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Round and Round, part 3

Author: Sybil Rowan

Pairing(s)/Characters: Ken x Crawford

Rating: T

Summary: Crawford is lead to take the subway and ends up encountering Ken right before a botched robbery.

Warnings: slash

Author's Notes: This is written for the 'FicTicTacToe' community on Live Journal. My competitor is my hubby, WingedPanther73. We're posting these to our Live Journal blogs. My prompt is #2: "Your heart will tear mine apart." By the way, the song I reference to by Joy Division is 'Love Will Tear Us Apart.' It's the most awesome song ever! Totally about love destroying the lovers.

Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz, its names and characters belong to Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiss, Marine Entertainment and Animate Film. Named after a New Order song by the same name.

Beta Reader/ Opponent: My wonderful hubby, WingedPanther73.

Word Count = 1,817

July 27, 2010 5:03am

"You're home early. So, things weren't to you're liking?" Schuldig asked, not looking up from the house of cards he was building on the coffee table. Crawford tossed his keys on the small desk by the door and glared at the back of his head. Schuldig wasn't reading his mind, but that didn't mean he wasn't willing to pry.

"It played out differently than I predicted. I don't anticipate seeing him again, outside of the occasional dust ups with Weiss."

Schuldig glanced at him and gave him a toothy smile. "Anticipate? That's an odd word for you to use. Kind of... uncertain? Let me guess, you had a vision that didn't go well with Chianti?"

"Something like that. We do need to stay away from all Weiss until we're in a better position. I foresaw it could be our undoing."

"Ah! Speaking of which... Takatori was trying to get you on your cell phone. Plus, you've kept your mind off limits tonight."

"What did Takatori want?" Crawford asked peevishly. He hoped to change the subject, but knowing Schuldig, that wasn't going to happen.

"He wants you to escort him to Hokkaido tomorrow."

"Good. It's the gun shipment." Crawford marched towards his study in Schwarz's high-rise apartment. He started to feel the slight buzzing in the front of his mind, just a subtle push.

"Still closed off, Brad..." Schuldig called out in a mocking tone that grated on Crawford's nerves.

* * *

They ordered food and sat in silence for several long minutes. Crawford sipped his wine and watched Ken fidget slightly. Crawford had waited for an opportunity like this to happen for a while now. This could be a chance to work his way at gathering information about Weiss and then exploiting it. He to be careful and not give Siberian an excuse to bolt.

Crawford still couldn't figure out if Siberian was bored, addicted to danger, or just plain foolish. After all, why didn't he hand his wallet over to the other Weiss members or Kritiker? Obviously, Crawford didn't keep anything damaging to himself in it, and not even the police had come knocking at his door asking about the three, now dead, hijackers.

He'd had a premonition early that afternoon that told him Siberian hadn't compromised him in any way, but his premonition hadn't provided the motive behind the Weiss assassin's thinking. Crawford took this as a promising sign; maybe Siberian was as gullible as he perceived. A small frown came to Crawford's lips, disappointed at how easy this was going to be.

"So you know my name; are you going to out me somehow?" Ken was the one to break the silence, which suited Crawford. He wanted to take his cues from the young man.

A small tug from his clairvoyance told him to turn off his cell phone and to gently ensure Schuldig wasn't lurking in his head; both of which he did without much conscious thought, just obedience to his Sight.

"It figures you'd be the type to get to the point, being into sports and competition." Crawford watched Ken's face get unpleasant, able to concentrate now that distractions were gone and privacy was ensured.

"I shouldn't be surprised you checked up on me this afternoon," Ken said. Crawford watched Ken's hands clench together so hard he was getting white knuckles. He was getting used to applying the real name to the young man; it would be more disarming in the long run.

"I found some old magazine articles online. You're supposed to be dead in some warehouse fire. Before that, you had a gambling addiction. You were a rising soccer star until you started throwing games."

Ken's face turned pink, he clenched his jaw. "I was framed. I was never addicted to gambling. It was all just gossip," Ken answered with a calm, quiet dignity. His eyes didn't waver from Crawford's.

"So you seem to have been forced into Weiss by some extreme misfortune," Crawford said. Ken was about say something, but the waiter came and served their food. Crawford picked up his fork and took a bite of the warm veal in sauce.

"Being in Weiss is my choice," Ken insisted, but Crawford noticed the slight waver away from eye contact.

"So tell me about how you came to that choice."

"No, you're fishing for things to use against me."

Crawford figured some honesty would go a long way. If he used the old magicians trick of showing one clean hand, Ken wouldn't be watching his other. Crawford gave him a sly smile and nodded. "Of course, I didn't just want my wallet back."

"I know," Ken snapped.

"You can leave any time you want. I have no hold over you." This was to create the illusion of choice. Let Siberian make this trap out of his own ennui; Crawford wouldn't have to expend much energy, at least, for now.

Crawford could tell his taunt only seemed to stiffen Ken's resolve by the furrowed brow and narrowed eyes. Ken picked up his fork and looked down at the heavy food in front of him. Crawford continued to eat while inwardly gloating. This Mundane, Crawford hoped if played right, could hand over Weiss.

He sipped his tart wine and felt his eyesight being drawn away, tugged down a path. He relaxed and went with it. He would be speeding in his car towards a hospital; a small, wailing child would be in the passengers seat of his beloved Austin-Healey with a broken leg. He would try to calm the child dressed in a bloodied and grass-stained soccer uniform. Crawford tried to push into a deeper and more detailed version, but something clicked, and he was pushed towards another vision against his urging.

The Balinese's eyes were going to be blazing hot with rage directed at him. The Weiss assassin would accuse him of causing Ken's ruin. Crawford would refute the charge and tell Balinese Ken's stubborn integrity was what brought the downfall of both Weiss and Schwarz. Crawford could feel his own malice grow when he would loft the gun at Balinese and demand to know in which sanitarium Kritiker had put Ken. His vision started sliding backwards into real time.

"You knew I wasn't going to leave this restaurant now?" Ken asked, his expression seemed suspicious.

"No, I didn't," he said, trying to puzzle out the distracting visions. Ruination, Crawford had a feeling, wouldn't just be Ken's if he kept contact with this young man.

"But I thought you could see... things..."

Crawford's smile dropped into an irritated expression. "It doesn't work that way." Mundanes' questions about Talents usually irritated him; this was no exception.

"Well, tell me how it works."

Crawford could see an authentic curiosity, no fear and bigotry seemed to be lurking behind those large, pure eyes. Crawford paused for a moment before blowing off the request. Yes, a little openness was the way to keep this young man intrigued. That would suit Crawford for now until he could figure out what was behind his two visions that peaked his curiosity.

Crawford nodded and said, "It's like playing a chess game. I can see two or three moves ahead of time. I can adjust to what I see, but a new situation is created based on what choice I make."

"Do you ever go against them?"

"If you mean ignore them, no. All it boils down to is getting information ahead of time. This morning, for example, I was warned that those men would kill everyone on the subway car. Saving you changed the situation, but there was no guarantee that the new, random situation would be an improvement."

"That makes sense. It's like a competition. You have to change your strategy depending on the plays your opponent makes."

Crawford was a little surprised Siberian grasped the explanation. Crawford felt a little more pleased this dinner wasn't full of childish bickering, or worse yet, boring. He watched Ken finish the last bite of his meal and take a sip of water. Crawford had the briefest vision of Ken awkwardly bidding a hasty goodbye and leaving.

"You could stay for dessert," Crawford suggested.

"No, thank you though. And thank you for saving my life today. I hope I can repay you one day," Ken said earnestly. "I really should go. I liv... I just really need to leave."

Crawford was happy at the slight slip; he could infer Ken lived where Kritiker could observe him, or maybe the Weiss members were keeping tabs on each other. This also let him know he could erode Ken's wariness, and he'd slip up again, given enough time together in the right circumstances.

"I understand," Crawford relented after another brief vision. This one involved Ken calling his cell phone while he was on a flight tomorrow evening. Yes, Ken's ennui was going to draw him to Crawford with very little effort.

Crawford had no plans to travel tomorrow, but Takatori was known to have him run errands at the last minute. He was starting to feel a push into his mind, a slight buzzing sound. It was Schuldig trying to get his attention. Crawford decided he didn't want the German telepath around when he was trying to coax Ken, it would spook the Weiss off quicker than anything Crawford could do.

He watched Ken stand and go for his own money. Crawford shook his head and said, "I've got this. Consider it a 'thank you' for returning my wallet and an apology for Schuldig's behavior."

"But..."

"No, I promised that you could leave unharmed after we were rescued. I did mean it."

Ken looked baffled, but nodded. "Thank you... Crawford."

* * *

Crawford sat in his dim study, feet propped on his mahogany desk and hands folded across his chest. He felt a little drowsy from the wine, but his head was still trying to sort out his visions at dinner.

He had called Takatori and the airport. Things were calm, and everything was silent. Crawford opened up his laptop, brought up his music player, and hit random order. He fixed himself a scotch, not wishing to have visions and a nagging mind disturb his sleep.

He was surprised to hear Joy Division playing softly. He hadn't listened to them for a good ten years. The particular song had almost the same melody as 'And Then He Kissed Me' by The Crystals, but the twist was by far darker. The lyrics invade his subconscious and it morphed from the proper phrase into, 'Your heart will tear mine apart.'

He startled and shut the laptop lid, cutting off the soft glow providing the light in the shadowy office. He quickly drained the drink and went to bed.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Round and Round, part 4

Author: Sybil Rowan

Pairing(s)/Characters: Ken x Crawford

Rating: T

Summary: Crawford is lead to take the subway and ends up encountering Ken right before a botched robbery.

Warnings: slash

Author's Notes: This started as a fictictactoe community on Livejournal. I figured I'd continue it because Crawford is fun to work with.

Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz, its names and characters belong to Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiss, Marine Entertainment and Animate Film. Named after a New Order song by the same name.

Beta Reader/ Opponent: My wonderful hubby, WingedPanther73.

Word Count = 2,293

July 2, 2010 7:25pm

"Damn it, why the hell didn't you order more boxes? You know Valentines wiped us out!" Aya said, slamming down the clipboard.

"I ordered them! They must have screwed up at the shipping company," Ken protested and picked up the clipboard. He rifled through the yellow sheets and found the March orders. He pointed to the order check box and said, "See?"

"Would you both just chill out for once! You both are just plain irritating!" Yohji snapped.

"Ken, why don't you straighten out the stock room, while Aya," Omi said, turning and giving Aya a miffed expression, "calls the shipping company."

Aya, rather than apologize, marched to the phone. Ken shook his head and stomped off to the stock room. Aya and he had been arguing on and off over the last week. It had all stemmed from a bad mission where Aya was almost hit by a car from a target that had gotten away from Ken.

The target fortunately crashed the car and Ken was able to finish the mission, but something about it had shaken Aya up. Since then, Aya had been giving him a hard time. Ken apologized profusely, but Aya rarely forgave a screw up during a mission.

Ken had finally had enough four days earlier and started bickering back. Omi was worn out trying to keep the peace between them, and Yohji was just irked at both Ken and Aya. It was getting to the point where the school girls avoided the afternoons when Ken was working with Aya.

Ken looked around and could tell within five seconds Yohji was the last one to use the stock room; it was in a shambles. He glared and flopped down on a chair in the corner. He could also tell his teammates were all busy out on the floor, which suited him just fine.

He felt his cell phone vibrate. The number was from one of parents of the kids he coached. He answered it and confirmed practice was still on for Saturday. He hit the disconnect button. After staring at his phone for a few moments, he brought up the history to see if yesterday was some bizarre figment of his imagination. No, Brad Crawford's phone number appeared on the small display. Ken's thumb almost hit the delete, but loud squeals from high school girls broke his attention.

He shook his head and then started to wonder what would happened if he hit send. He wondered if he could get away with talking to Crawford with his teammates in the next room. He smiled thinking how that would really send Aya over the edge. Ken's thumb hit send and he held it up to his ear; he really expected his call to be declined.

"Keeping out of trouble today?"

"How did you know it was me?" Ken asked, feeling a little awe, but mostly a creepy sensation.

"Your number showed up on my phone," Crawford answered very dryly. Ken felt a moment of embarrassment that dispelled the creepy sensation. He shrugged it off in favor of nervousness when he saw Yohji saunter past the door followed by Ouka and Sakura.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm flying back from Hokkaido."

"Why did you go all the way out there?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I would, but you'll keep it a secret."

"You're right," Crawford answered.

"Hey, Ken!" Yohji snapped from the doorway. Ken jerked the phone down and held his hand over the speaker. His pulse was racing. "Get a move on already! I'm not going to be here all night."

"Fine," Ken snapped. "Give me a minute."

Yohji gave him a dismissive wave and disappeared.

Ken held up the phone again. "Sorry about that."

"Not a problem," Crawford said. "So what are you doing tonight?"

"Nothing."

"Meet me at the Nippon Budokan at eight o'clock."

"Why?"

"There's an American boxing match tonight."

"I don't like American boxing," Ken said, trying to bow out a little more awkwardly than he wished.

"Eight o'clock," Crawford said and then hung up on him. Ken scowled at his cell phone. He bolted out of the chair and started cleaning up the stock room in a huff, now more galled at Crawford than Aya.

* * *

"Thought you knew better than to give any woman your phone number," Reiji Takatori mumbled, not even glancing up from his newspaper sudoku after Crawford clicked the disconnect. "You know, once you give them a little leeway, they think they own you. Damn these puzzles... they make the damn things so hard... anyway... no one serious?"

Crawford kept his face from puckering. He despised this bloated, arrogant Mundane only a little less than Essett. The time wasn't right to express himself yet, so he said, "No, no one I take seriously."

"Games..." Takatori snorted, briefly glancing up from his puzzle. "Well, just make sure the game you're playing doesn't interfere with business. Three days, I want you to deliver the guns to Masafumi. And... watch him this time. Those women... your call wasn't from one of them, was it?"

"No," Crawford answered, suppressing his anger that Takatori would imply he wouldn't do his job in anything less than perfection.

"Good," the older man grunted. "Well, see about keeping those women at bay."

"No problem."

"Good, and... for heaven's sakes why are you taking a woman to a boxing match?"

Now Crawford fantasized about shooting the man sitting across the airplane aisle from him. He couldn't stand how the man was so presumptuous about handing out dating advice.

"I want to push to see what I can get away with."

Reiji chuckled and shook his head. "You'll drive her away by next week."

Crawford's mind drifted back to the premonition last night. Ken was going to cause him nothing but problems in the future. Still, Crawford knew that vision was a while down the road. There was still time to create a new situation before the momentum towards that possible future was sealed. He'd have to spend time gathering information on Weiss.

* * *

Ken laid on the sofa and kept flipping the channels. Nothing caught his attention. His irritability increased as Aya stormed through the living room and out the front door. Ken saw the bouquet of flowers and knew it was for his comatose sister. Some of his irritation was quelled by pity.

He looked over to where Omi was headed towards his bedroom with a study snack and his calculus book. Seconds later, Yohji, freshly preened, headed out the front door, no doubt to pick up his new girlfriend. Ken shook his head and took another stab at finding a TV show.

"Darn that guy," Ken mumbled, jumped off the sofa, and grabbed the motorcycle key out of his pocket. "Omi! I'm going for a ride. Don't know when I'll be back."

"Fine!" Omi called back, and then Ken headed out towards the Nippon Budokan.

* * *

He pulled his motorcycle beside the red sports car. Crawford was leaning against the driver's side door. The hint of a smirk was on the American's face. Oh how he wanted to punch it right off. Ken knew it was too late to back out now, so he put down the kickstand and turned it off.

Ken refused to make the first move; after all, this was Crawford's idea. Slowly, Crawford stood straighter and jerked his head towards the the stadium. The American got tickets out after they made their way through the crowd. Ken kept his eyes wary for signs of any other Schwarz members.

"So why did you ask me here?"

Crawford had a subtle smile play at his lips. "Entertainment."

"Hun? You could have watched this on TV."

"Boxing isn't entertaining. I could care less about sports because I can see the outcome."

Ken felt slightly flustered at the implication. He didn't know if this was a sadistic way of telling him he was walking into some elaborate trap, or did Crawford want a peaceful, companionable night like last night. Ken wished he had Schuldig's powers right now.

"So, have you seen a fight?"

"Been in plenty of 'em," Ken mumbled and shoved his fists in his pocket. He watched Crawford hand over two tickets, grab the stubs, and push his glasses up while studying the writing. Crawford lead him to the entrance and to their seats through the crowd.

Ken kept quiet as he glanced at Crawford. The man seemed calm, eyes focused on the ring in spite of the noisy, excited spectators. There were just so many questions that tossed around in Ken's mind, but this didn't seem the right time or place to ask them. He glanced around, making sure anyone they knew wasn't lurking around.

The bell rang and Ken's attention was drawn to the fight. It appealed to Ken's competitive nature as he watched the two boxers try to gain advantage over one another as they danced around the ring. He found himself enthralled and even cheering from time to time. He looked over at Crawford and shook his head.

"What is it?" The American asked him, barely audible over the din.

Ken shook his head and refrained from telling Crawford how he pitied his inability to enjoy the struggle being played out before them. Ken had a feeling that would be an offense Crawford wouldn't forgive. Instead Ken shouted back, "The guy in red is going to win."

Crawford a cocky smirk and asked, "Are you sure?"

Ken smiled back and said, "Nope, and don't tell me. I think the guy's got a better reach and is faster."

"We'll see."

* * *

"You're guess was wrong, but you seem amused at that."

"I had fun," Ken explained as they walked through the crowd towards the glass double doors.

"I'm glad you found an appreciation for something American."

"I like lots of American things," Ken protested. "Some great action movies. Pretty good music too. I could learn to appreciate more American things."

Ken felt his face warm at Crawford's quirked eyebrow. He mentally kicked himself for the slip up. His daydreaming while cleaning the flower shop was showing.

"I think you're going to be joining me for a drink."

"I don't drink, and I need to get back home. Besides, your... whatever you call it... can't make me do anything!" Ken insisted. His fury grew steadily as Crawford's smile grew.

"I didn't predict anything." Crawford pointed to the door.

"Oh no!" Ken shouted at the pouring rain. He ran outside, flipped up the kickstand, and quickly rolled his motorcycle under a parking canopy. He flinched, hearing a motor pull up behind him. It was Crawford's car. Ken felt a sinking feeling as Crawford reached over and unlatched his car door.

Ken got into the car and slammed the door. He crossed his arms and shivered at the cool interior. He huffed at Crawford's smug expression and said, "I really hate your guts."

Crawford chuckled and replied, "I know."

* * *

Crawford felt the moment was close. He had brought Ken to a dark, out of the way, Western-styled hotel bar. Ken hadn't been comfortable the whole time as Crawford sipped a scotch. Ken just played with a straw in his cola, chasing ice cubes around.

Finally, Crawford said, "It won't let up until four in the morning, so you may as well relax. I could drive you home."

"Not a chance," Ken snapped.

"Then you'll be spending the night here."

Ken sighed in a way that indicated he was resolved. Crawford contemplated his choices. He could leave Ken here, easily, but that would be too Schuldig for Crawford's taste. Besides, it wouldn't get him closer to his goal of wrapping Ken around his finger. Crawford finished his drink and said, "Wait here."

Crawford went to the front desk and quickly charged a room under an assumed name. He walked back and motioned for Ken to follow him. The young man was perplexed, but followed him to the elevators.

"I wasn't about to sit in a bar all night long. Besides, you still look cold and damp."

"You aren't exactly what I thought you'd be. Thank you for the boxing match. I should help pay..."

"I've already taken care of it. Or rather, a Mr. John Barton has."

Ken's grateful expression turned slightly sour, but at least he didn't presume to lecture Crawford. If he had, Crawford would have been tempted to turn Ken out. Fortunately, Ken had been brought up with good manners.

After they got to the room, Crawford let him in and tossed the card key on the desk. Crawford loosened his tie, sat on the small sofa in the sitting area, and propped up his feet. Meanwhile, Ken fished a towel out of the bathroom and rubbed it over his head.

He sat on the other side of the sofa and looked at Crawford. The American took off his glasses and started polishing them with a handkerchief from his jacket pocket. Ken was nothing but a huge blur now. Details were totally lost on him, but it was these times, when his eyesight was hampered, that his inner eyes seemed to naturally take over.

He quieted his mind and foresaw any advance he made towards Ken would be reciprocated, up to a point, but he'd have to move slowly, leave Ken craving more.

He put on his glasses, which brought Ken into focus. He slid closer to Ken and said, "Being Weiss, you have to keep people at a distance."

"That's true. I had to pass up the last relationship I was in."

"That's because people who don't live like we do, would never understand."

"I'm afraid that I'll meet someone, and they'll be disgusted by the things I've done," Ken said, with an open, honest expression, so full of pain.

Crawford nodded and admitted, "People keep me at a distance when they know what I can do."

Ken shook his head and blurted out, "It's not your abilities that put me off. It's what you do with them... that's..."

"...frightening?"

Ken nodded. Crawford slid closer and put his arm on the back of the sofa.

"Why do you work for criminals? I don't understand."

"I have my motives."

"What are they?"

"Get to know me," Crawford coaxed. Ken's eyes were wide, he looked totally stunned. Crawford raised his hand and slightly brushed Ken's damp hair back. Crawford leaned even closer and almost whispered, "After all, I can understand the world your trapped in."

Ken shivered under his fingertips. Crawford felt his clairvoyance telling him it was time, prompting him to kiss Ken. He did so only to be surprised how quickly and how voraciously Ken returned it. Ken knocked Crawford's glasses askew in his enthusiasm.

Crawford slightly pushed Ken back, took his tie off, and unbuttoned his shirt collar. "This could be dangerous for you?"

Ken nodded with a solemn look, so Crawford removed his glasses and laid them on an end table. Ken leaned back on the sofa slightly, taking Crawford with him. Not too far in, Crawford tugged at Ken's shirt and almost had it removed when an unfamiliar cell phone tone rang out.

Ken started, fished the cell phone out of his pocket, and looked at the number. Crawford didn't miss Ken's face paling; he looked flustered as he hit the receive button. "I know I should have called... No, I'm fine... I'm at a restaurant until it lets up... Please, don't wake him up to get me. That's too much trouble... A cab... I'll see, but I'd hate leaving my bike... Don't worry about me... I'll be home as soon as the rain gets light enough... Okay, but really, don't wait up... Goodnight."

Ken clicked the cell phone off, glared at Crawford, and tugged his damp shirt back down. Crawford gave him a sly smile and said, "You're on a short leash."

"Thanks to you, I had to lie to my friend. I despise liars."

"And you told them who you were having dinner with last night? Or didn't you lie by omission then?" Ken was obviously perturbed now. "Listen, you've already made the excuse to stay here. You may as well enjoy yourself."

"We shouldn't do this at all."

"Like I said, I have no power to keep you here. You're free to leave. Or I could leave."

Ken's brow furrowed, but he finally shook his head. "Just tonight. Promise this is the last."

"I won't make that promise, because it'll just be broken. I do promise to go only as far as you're willing to go."

Ken took a slow, deep breath and got that determined look in his eyes. He removed his teeshirt and tossed it on the ground. Crawford was careful to not let a smug expression escape as he ran his fingertips down Ken's bare shoulder.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Round and Round, part 5

Author: Sybil Rowan

Pairing(s)/Characters: Ken x Crawford

Rating: T

Summary: Crawford is lead to take the subway and ends up encountering Ken right before a botched robbery.

Warnings: slash

Author's Notes: This started as a fictictactoe community on Livejournal. I figured I'd continue it because Crawford is fun to work with.

Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz, its names and characters belong to Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiss, Marine Entertainment and Animate Film. Named after a New Order song by the same name.

Beta Reader/ Opponent: My wonderful hubby, WingedPanther73.

Word Count = 2,044

August 5, 2010 4:15pm

"Well look what the cat dragged in," Yohji taunted as Ken attempted sneaking into his room. He started, turned, and glowered at the tall blond.

"Isn't it too early for you?"

"I'm just getting in."

"It's four-thirty," Ken said in a whisper, not wishing to concoct a bunch of lies for everyone.

"Yeah, and you're getting in after me. Not like you. She must have been pretty hot." Yohji got a sly smirk and elbowed Ken. "You know, Omi wanted me to go fetch you, but I had a feeling you didn't want to be found."

"You're right about that," Ken mumbled.

"So?"

"What?"

"Are you going to see her again?"

"Who?" Ken asked as he tried to escape to his bedroom.

"The girl you hooked up with tonight."

"No... I don't think I'll run into that person again."

"You sound like you had a horrible time."

"It didn't end up like I wanted," Ken admitted. "Listen, don't tell the others. I don't want anyone to know I'm dating again. Okay?"

"Fine... fine... Hey, I can set you up if the girl you were with didn't work out," Yohji offered.

"No thanks. I've had enough," Ken said and shut the door on Yohji's smirking face. Ken pulled off his teeshirt and flopped down on his bed, stomach first. His irritation was running high. Everything had seemed to be going so smooth and then hell broke loose, literally.

* * *

Ken tried to shift under Crawford while the man pressed another kiss on him. Crawford raised up a little and looked down at Ken. "Still okay?"

"Yeah," Ken said, trying to get used to seeing Crawford without his glasses.

"You want to move?" Crawford asked, tilting his head towards the bed across the room. Ken's heart almost stopped pounding. After all, before Yoriko he had been with Kase. It wasn't as if he were a stranger to sex, but the memory of Kase and betrayal gave this time with Crawford a little bitter twist. How much more would Crawford deceive him; Ken had no idea why he would set himself up for this kind of trouble.

"I don't..." Ken paused when Crawford's eyes narrowed. The man suddenly scowled. "What's going on?"

"Schuldig is pestering me," Crawford answered. The American's cell phone rang, making Ken flinch. Crawford pushed himself upright and looked at the number. "Damn that woman!" Crawford hit receive and snapped, "What do you want?... No, I said two days... I don't give a damn! Tell Masafumi he can take it up with his father, if he doesn't like my time table..." Crawford's brow furrowed. "You don't say... I agree, Nagi stays at home, but so does Tot... Agreed... When?... Where?..."

Crawford hit the disconnect button and stood. He picked up his long-sleeved, dress shirt and put it back on, tucking it in his slacks. "Sorry. Business first."

"Who was that?" Ken asked.

"Hell. She wants me to drop off something within the hour. It's a touchy situation. By the way, don't follow me. It's still raining."

Ken nodded. "I won't. I guess... this just isn't going to work out. Probably for the best."

Crawford's yanked Ken up by the forearm, taking Ken off guards. Before Ken could resist, Crawford laid a firm, deep kiss on him. Ken was stunned speechless when Crawford parted from him.

"It's not necessarily done yet. Cover your tracks this week and lose my number out of your cell phone. Do not call for any reason at all. If you want to continue this arrangement, meet me at Shinjuku Gyoen on Friday afternoon. Three o'clock. I'll be waiting by the Okido Gate."

"I won't be there. I can't. This just..." Ken's protest stopped when he saw the conceited expression on Crawford's face.

"Don't be late. Nothing irritates me more," Crawford warned, picked up his jacket, and said, "Also, don't be surprised if we cross paths before then."

"What do you mean?"

"Enjoy the room for the rest of the night. At least, you can get away for a while." With that Crawford left Ken alone and very frustrated.

* * *

Ken withdrew into himself over the next five days. He had made up his mind to decline Crawford's offer and avoid being alone with the man. He couldn't hack as well as Omi, but good enough to get Crawford's number off his cell phone records. He was irritated that he couldn't seem to erase the phone number from his head.

It was on that fifth day when Manx showed up. Ken felt a flare of panic, but she didn't mention the subway hijacking. Instead she launched into a mission briefing. Omi and Aya volunteered first, and Ken wasn't going to, but he changed his mind at Aya's icy glare. He wanted to redeem his reputation and stop Aya's hostile treatment.

When he volunteered for the mission, Aya made a disgusted snort and marched out. Yohji scampered off, declaring he wasn't going on a mission with Ken and Aya at the same time. Omi sighed, shook his head, and got to work at his computer.

Manx tugged Ken aside to a corner of their mission room; this panicked him again. "I took care of everything about that subway. You indicated The Oracle happened to be the other man with you."

"Yeah, I escaped after he... I guess... summoned the others. I lucked out when they got sloppy, and I ran for it."

"Too bad you couldn't get the drop on all of them."

"Sorry."

"Well, they killed those three hijackers, so you are lucky. But, was there any information The Oracle let slip? Anything we could use?"

"I'm sorry. I wish there was something."

Manx gave him a smile and patted his arm. "Thanks so much, and be careful. Schwarz is a very dangerous group."

He nodded before she left. He suddenly noticed there was an eerie silence. He looked over to see Omi had stopped typing and was staring at him. Ken gave a quick nod and launched himself back upstairs to the flower shop.

* * *

Crawford crept through the dark alleyway between the high brick buildings. A subtle tingle hit behind his eyes, danger was close, but his premonition told him to put away his gun and to stand beside the doorway. Seconds later, the door opened and let some light into the alleyway. Crawford saw a set of steel claws stained red.

Ken swirled around and lofted his claws. He hesitated when his eyes registered it was Crawford standing beside the door. Ken's face clouded over in anger.

"What are you doing here?" Ken snapped, not lowering his weapon.

"Working," Crawford said, giving him a crafty smirk. "Same as you. I presume you took care of that drug dealer in there."

"Yeah... and his goons. One of them went this way."

"I know. I saw him."

"Out of the way!"

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that. It'd be hazards to your health."

Ken looked confused, and that was the opening Crawford took. He slammed his left fist into Ken's gut and then swung a right cross, connecting with Ken's jaw. The Japanese teenager hit the ground hard, knocked out.

"Thanks, Crawford," the man named Sato said, coming out of the shadows. "You sure got the drop on that dumb kid. Are you going to take him back to Takatori?"

Crawford watched the goon slide the gun back into his coat pocket. It was that reason Crawford had shown up and knocked Ken out, even though he wasn't scheduled to oversee this low-level operation. Sato would have shot Ken and then he would have been stuck in a coma for a very long time. That was a future Crawford wanted to alter because he wasn't finished toying with Ken just yet.

Crawford drew his gun again and aimed it at Sato. The goon looked utterly shocked. "But... but...what are you doing... we..." the Japanese man sputtered before Crawford squeezed the trigger. Crawford turned and walked down the alleyway because Abyssinian was due to show any second.

* * *

Ken shook his head. His jaw throbbed painfully on the left side. Ken left himself be helped up by Omi.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Someone got the drop on me."

"Looks like the same person got the drop on him," Aya said from several feet away. Ken walked over with Omi trailing behind. They looked down to see a man had a clean shot through the head. "They killed him and let you go. Why?"

"I don't know. I didn't see anything." Ken gingerly felt his jaw, trying not to think on the guilt starting to gnaw at his stomach. He couldn't meet Aya's eyes anymore. He turned and marched towards the back of the buildings. He'd have to avoid further scrutiny until he could drive Crawford away.

* * *

The next two days were crazy. Aya, if anything, treated Ken worse. Omi seemed to give Ken the cold shoulder, but it was veiled in politeness. Yohji seemed halfway decent, but annoyed at the frosty tension running through the group.

Ken felt so isolated from the others. He didn't think he could keep a straight story about any questions they would launch at him, anyway. Ken kept finding work around the store apart from the others so he could sort out everything over the last week.

Nothing made sense; especially, Crawford showing up. Ken could put together it was Crawford who killed the goon, but the motivation wasn't clear. Finally, Friday afternoon came very slowly. Ken wanted an excuse, any excuse, to keep him at the flower shop, but it was so slow by two. Omi showed up early for the afternoon shift and Aya appeared from downstairs.

Ken didn't bother making excuses or telling anyone some false story about where he was going. He hopped on his motorcycle and took off towards Shinjuku Gyoen against his better judgment. His need for answers was burning too hot, drowning out his rational thoughts.

* * *

Ken pulled up, once again, beside Crawford's car. He jumped off his motorcycle and spotted Crawford standing beside the Okido Gate. The American checked his watch and said, "You're late."

"I owe you for that punch," Ken snapped.

"Fine. I'll let you pay today." Crawford lead Ken to the ticket office. Ken was too dumbfounded to do anything, but pay for two tickets and walk next to Crawford down the picturesque garden path. "I'm sorry about punching you, but you wouldn't have listened to me."

"Listened to what?"

"That the man had a gun and would have killed you."

"Was it some kind of sick set up?" Ken accused.

"No," Crawford answered placidly, "but it worked out that I could get rid of someone causing a disturbance. You know, I thought you had more manners. Is this the kind of gratitude you're going to show me?"

"I didn't come to thank you! I came to tell you to leave me alone. This is not something I want to deal with."

"You still have a free will. You didn't have to come see me. You could have stayed at home and let your actions convey that message. You'll have to stop playing this game with yourself. Stop saying one thing, but doing the opposite."

Ken felt the skin on his face burn. He wanted to hit Crawford the same way he had been hit. Instead he turned to face Crawford. "Fine. I did want to come see you again."

"Good, now, about you showing me some gratitude..."

Ken's eyebrow arched as he gave Crawford a wary look. "What did you have in mind."

"After we take a look around here, I'll take you over to a hotel down the street and finish doing to you what I started last week."

Ken's mouth went dry. He nodded, not breaking eye contact with Crawford.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Round and Round, part 6

Author: Sybil Rowan

Pairing(s)/Characters: Ken x Crawford

Rating: T

Summary: Crawford is lead to take the subway and ends up encountering Ken right before a botched robbery.

Warnings: slash

Author's Notes: This started as a fictictactoe community on Livejournal. I figured I'd continue it because Crawford is fun to work with.

Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz, its names and characters belong to Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiss, Marine Entertainment and Animate Film. Named after a New Order song by the same name.

Beta Reader: My wonderful hubby, WingedPanther73. Thanks for you indulgence.

Word Count = 2,393

August 7, 2010 8:15pm

Crawford walked into his personal study at Schwarz's high-rise apartment and was irritated to see Schuldig's feet up on his desk; he wasn't surprised, though. Crawford shrugged off his jacket and glared.

"So where did you disappear too?"

"Don't make me lie; I'm not in the mood," Brad snapped, snatching the scotch glass from Schuldig's hand and then holding his index finger towards the door. "Out!"

"Testy... and here I thought you were getting laid... finally," Schuldig taunted with a toothy smile.

"What gave you that impression?" Crawford asked, setting aside the drink and pushing his glasses up on his nose. His mind was too distracted by this morning encounter with Ken to effectively deal with Schuldig's usual nonsense, so his mind tacked around for some errand he could send the obnoxious German on.

"Drug store receipts are pretty revealing when you don't bother to shred them."

"If I catch you digging through my trashcan again..."

"I'm only doing it because you've been so secretive lately. Sneaking around. Come on, who's the lucky person, Brad?"

"No one special at all. Now, leave."

"I'm here to make sure you're still in the game to win."

"Don't doubt me! My goals are the same. Mundanes will rue the day they ever became aware of us."

"Oh... a bit of a bitter taste in that tone. So some Mundane pissed on you?"

"Out! And don't talk about Mundanes! Each one of them are nothing more than an irritant."

"Fine."

"Run over to Takatori and tell him I'll have those contracts finished and signed by noon tomorrow."

"Sure thing," Schuldig said, flashing a cunning smile, "Bradly..."

After the redhead left, Crawford took his rightful place behind his desk and turned on his computer. He quickly brought up a blank document. He managed half the contract before his run in with Ken started distracting him again.

He stopped when he saw he had typed the same sentence three times. He leaned back in his cordovan leather chair. He needed to sort through the morning and decide how to repair what he had done.

* * *

Crawford finished his shower and got dressed again. He left the small bathroom and looked over to Ken, who was still lounging in the bed, buried under several covers. Crawford gave him a disproving scowl even though Ken was in a daze and staring at the ceiling.

"Are you going to lay there all day?"

"Maybe," Ken said, giving him that charming, easy grin. "I don't have anything to do today."

"What is it that keeps you busy most days?"

Ken propped up on his elbows and shook his head. "I thought we had an agreement. Nothing personal."

"That's personal? You know what I do for a living. It doesn't seem fair."

"Well, I knew that before all this started. It's not like I dragged it out of you."

Crawford felt it was time, after three whirlwind weeks, to give some gentle nudges, to see how much trust he had built up. "Still, I'd like to know. You don't have to be specific."

He watched Ken grab his clothes and pull them on quickly. "I don't do anything you'd find interesting. Besides," Now Ken had an uncongenial expression. "...you were the one who came up with the terms... how did you say... 'in which to conduct ourselves in order to make this arrangement agreeable to my sensibilities' ...I should have known you'd push. You want me to work inside of some rules, but you want to break them."

"Fine. You're right," Crawford admitted, suppressing his smirk.

Crawford had deduced Kritiker had been stupid enough to give cover, the same cover, to all four Weiss assassins, and, what ever it was, it was something Ken didn't really care for. Ken was afraid Crawford could track them if he could narrow the field, which was true.

Crawford hadn't taken to following Ken yet, because he wanted the satisfaction of Ken telling, and then knowing where the control lay in this arrangement. Crawford needed to let Ken hand over his control, or rather, give up the illusion he had any in the first place.

Crawford shrugged and said, "Besides, you'd just lie."

Ken's face turned stormy. One of the surest ways Crawford had of disarming Ken was to question Ken's integrity. He hadn't dug around deep enough to find out why dishonesty was such a hard thing for Ken to deal with, but he knew it was going to be an effective weapon later.

Ken attempted to march towards the door, but Crawford caught him around the waist and halted him. "Let me go."

"Wait... don't go... I meant that you would weigh your teammates' safety above everything else. That all."

Ken relaxed in his arms a little. Crawford drew him closer and nuzzled Ken's neck. He felt Ken shiver. Crawford whispered in his ear, "Meet me Saturday morning for breakfast."

Crawford was more than a little surprised to feel Ken's body go from pliant to rigid in half a second. He moved his face back to see Ken was now paled and wide-eyed.

"No, I'm doing something then. I can't meet you," he mumbled, now shaking.

"Some mission with Weiss I figured by the way you suddenly tensed up?" Crawford asked, expecting Ken to give some sign away, like break eye contact or bluster. Instead, to Crawford's bafflement, Ken's eyes turned lethal.

"Leave me alone," Ken said, low and full of venom. "No more of this. I'm not meeting you again."

Ken wrenched himself away and bolted from the room as if it were on fire. Crawford started pacing, annoyed Ken was as presumptuous to think he could call off their arrangement at will. Somehow, Crawford had stepped on something really touchy in Ken's life. But, why didn't he have a vision to direct him away from suggesting Saturday?

* * *

Crawford continued to stare at the half done contract, wondering why his visions had failed him this morning. That is, unless, he'd already had one. He thought back to his first dinner with Ken. Yes, he'd had a vision about a child with a broken leg.

The child was too old to be Ken's, so what was the connection? The child wore a grungy soccer uniform of some sort: green and orange. His recall of his visions was always perfect. This was no exception. The child's name was Akira Yamaguci.

Crawford smiled to himself; it would seem he'd have to get some towels for his car. His leather interior wasn't going to be stained for any reason.

Crawford was able to finish the contract for Takatori in record time, now that he knew things where going to go his way. After, he printed the document and sealed it in an manila envelop. Now that that was finished, he clicked on his Internet browser and started threading through the hundreds of children's soccer leagues in Tokyo, not an easy task.

* * *

Ken was in such a foul mood that even Aya stayed clear of him. He was glad of that, but it only gave him more time to fret over his folly over the last three weeks. To function with Crawford, Ken had compartmentalized each thing in his life: florist, Weiss assassin, paramour, and soccer coach. It was how he had handled things before Crawford came along; he just added another space.

Now, just like he feared, lines could get blurry. Crawford's suggestion of a Saturday morning rendezvous would have been welcome a month before, but now his kids were practicing, gearing up for soccer season. Crawford's suggestion had struck a dread in his heart.

The game he was playing with Crawford was stupid at best, deadly at worst. Crawford was no idiot; Ken kept picturing a scenario where Crawford would show up while he was coaching. His kids didn't do anything for Ken to possibly introduce that kind of hazard into their lives. And it struck him, neither did Omi, Yohji, or Aya. For that matter, he could extend to ask if he had a right to coach children with the label assassin hanging around his neck.

His impulse to flee Crawford hit him in an instant, and he acted on it. He had to keep telling himself he had to do the right thing. Still, Crawford was lingering in his mind. He figured it was an apt punishment for acting so hedonistic and careless.

Anyway, he found himself checking his phone more often than he should, and feeling disappointment each time Crawford's number didn't appear. Then, he'd get angry at himself all over again for opening himself up in the first place.

Saturday morning came and Ken was able to compartmentalize again. Soccer and his kids were all he had to worry about this morning, and he was determined to enjoy himself. No rain, just the start of a beautiful April morning.

* * *

Crawford, with much juggling, was able to slip away and find where Ken would be. He had called several parks and found one reserved under the name 'Hidaka.' It turned out, as Crawford began to suspect, Ken was a soccer coach for a group of children.

That was troublesome on two counts. It just proved to Crawford that Ken wasn't a logical, disciplined thinker. Also, Mundane children seemed to pick up on Crawford's uniqueness and tended to avoid him. No matter, Crawford wanted to stay clear of children anyway, but his vision had told him to go with this one encounter.

That's why he was in the parking lot next to a soccer field, looking and spotting Ken easily enough among the tangle of children. Crawford noted two women, probably mothers, sitting on the bleachers. No cars in the lot, just Ken's motorcycle. He took a deep breath and left his car; the timing was just right.

* * *

It happened so quick, as the kids were running their drills up and down the soccer field. Akira picked up his foot a little too high, stepped on the ball, and slid into a bad skid on the grass. Ken ran over before the kid could shout. All the others came to a halt and gathered around where Ken sank to his knees.

Ken felt his heart sink, seeing the leg was certainly broken. Akira began to wail, which made Ken fell horrible. "Sedji, go get your mother to call Mrs. Yamaguci. Tell her to meet me at the emergency room."

Ken caught someone tall walking up. He looked up and was shocked to see it was Crawford. His eyes narrowed as the American looked down at Akira.

"I'll drive him. It'll be quicker," was all Crawford said, jerking his head towards the parking lot.

Ken's first instinct was to tell Crawford to go jump in a lake, but Akira's wailing and the other children's worried expressions took over. He had no real choice except to trust Crawford. The incident in the alleyway spurred Ken to gingerly pick up Akira and carry him over to Crawford's car. He didn't miss the odd looks Crawford was getting from his kids.

"Be careful with him," Ken warned, after setting the child inside.

"I'll meet you soon."

* * *

The child's tears bothered Crawford. It made him speed so he could be rid of the child as soon as possible, but a memory struck him.

He was the same age as the kid when he had a premonition to not climb an apple tree. He ignored it and climbed anyway, to only end up with a broken leg and the lesson to pay attention to his visions.

"I know it's rather painful, so try to think on something else," Crawford said.

"Like... what?"

"Division," Crawford said. "One-hundred and forty-four divided by twelve?"

"Too... easy... twelve."

"Two hundred and fifty-six devised by five?"

The child paused for a second, grimaced, but answered, "Fifty-one with one left over."

* * *

It wasn't long before Ken came in with the child's mother. The woman went immediately to see her child. Crawford waited in the lobby, and Ken eventually walked out, looking absolutely chagrined with a hint of aggravation.

"I know how you found out, and I am grateful, but I don't want you around them."

Crawford smiled and asked, "So what about the other children?"

"I sent them home with two of the mothers and reschedule practice for tomorrow afternoon."

"Well, it would seem you have the rest of your morning free."

Ken looked dumbfounded for a minute. Then he shook his head. "I want to make sure Akira..."

Crawford shook his head and stood aside as the door to the inner emergency room swung open. The child looked happy now on crutches with his mother trailing behind.

"I'm so sorry..." Ken started off, but the woman patted Ken's shoulder and smiled.

"It's okay. I'm going to take him home. It wasn't your fault. These things happen."

"Are you sure?" Ken asked.

"Yes, go home and try to relax. Find something to take your mind off of this," Mrs. Yamaguci insisted before ruffling her son's hair.

"Bye, Mr. Ken. Sorry I wasn't paying attention."

Ken smiled and shook his head. "Well, get better soon. I need my star goalie."

"Okay, bye," the child said. They were about to leave, but the child turned back around and said, "Thank you, Mr. Crawford."

"No problem," Crawford answered and crossed his arms. The mother glanced at the man and nodded her thanks as well.

After they left Crawford turned to Ken and said, "You need to follow the lady's advice and find some way to take your mind off this morning."

"But you..." Ken flung his hands in the air. "I give up! You're so annoying!"

"I know. Come on. My car's around the corner. We'll get something to eat and then find a nice quiet room."

"I swear, somehow you planned this to get your way," Ken accused, but followed Crawford out of the lobby.

"No, just decided to be at the right place."


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Round and Round, part 7

Author's Notes: Well... this one is a really cool, fun ride. Slight twist in timeline, but nothing disruptive. I wanted to add Hirofumi just as another screwball Crawford resents.

Beta Reader: My wonderful hubby, WingedPanther73. Thanks for you indulgence. I will say, he's been a wonderful help with Crawford.

Word Count = 2,211

August 20, 2010 2:57pm

If Crawford really gave any serious thought to Hirofumi Takatori, he supposed he'd be repulsed by the Mundane, but he viewed him as a pebble in his shoe. Something to be worked around. He found himself at Hirofumi's mountain cabin, unexpectedly. Takatori wanted Crawford's opinion on how well Hirofumi was able to provided recreation for important political connections.

To Crawford, it reinforced his opinions of Mundanes, they were no more than animals. Takatori's second son had kidnapped a young girl so that one old, paunchy judge could chase her around the woods and kill her. This was the kind of decadences and chaos he wanted to create, still his conscious twinged a little seeing the girl hunkered and cringing besides the side of the wooded area.

It brought memories of Nagi to his mind. The boy was starved, dirty, and terrified when he knocked on Crawford's door. The memories only stoked his enmity towards Mundanes all the more. People like Hirofumi, in Crawford's estimation, were no better than an animal and the judge as well. Crawford tried to relegate the girl as prey, but something about her kept him from thinking of her like that.

Crawford leaned against the deck railing and watched Hirofumi shoot in the air. The sobbing girl scattered to the woods. The paunchy judge waddled after the girl, and Hirofumi joined Crawford on the deck.

"So why did my father send you anyway? I've been careful."

"But you kidnapped the son of a police officer last week. You need to be more careful who you choose. Your father realizes the value of this operation. It provides blackmail opportunities and networking. He just ask..." A vision took over his eye site. Crawford was going to try to rescue the girl for some reason. He pushed his glasses higher on his nose. "...that you be more discriminating in your efforts acquiring people. Now, I think I'll take a walk and examine the terrain."

"Be careful. You could get shot," Hirofumi said with a gloat the man meant to intimidate Crawford.

The American kept his face impassive and promised to make Hirofumi the prey in one of his depraved hunts. Crawford silenced his mind, shut his eyes, and walked through the woods. He gave himself over to his clairvoyance and made his way around trees. He was drawn towards his left; his pace quickened. He could feel a distant, weak tingle. Minor telepathy.

Crawford jolted back to real time and plunged towards the distress call. He found the young, teenage girl cowering at the base of a tree, weeping. He realized, with slight surprise, this girl was a Talent, albeit, a weak one. She was one of his kind.

"Get up," Crawford ordered the girl. She stood, trembling. Crawford felt a wave of sympathy because the girl was fourteen, at most, and still had pigtails and scraped knees.

Crawford could feel the mental ripple of fear coming from her. She was undisciplined, but that could change. He grabbed her hand and gave himself over to his clairvoyance, yet again. Shots rang out, but he ignored them, focused only on the girl.

Nothing of her future appeared before his eyes. He was startled when she pulled away from him in panic; she picked up on Crawford's uncanniness. She ran five steps when a loud crack rang out. Crawford watched as the girl crumpled to the ground. He could feel her telepathy snuff out just as the plump judge showed himself.

Crawford stopped himself from shooting the man in retaliation. Instead he turned without a word and walked back to the cabin where his car was parked. He made no parting remarks to Hirofumi. He sped off down the dirt road, trying to quell his rage.

He didn't see anything in the girl's future because he was too late to upset the chessboard. Again, the life of a Talent was nothing but a plaything, broken and tossed aside by a Mundane. He was going to spend his life stopping the vermin who would do this.

* * *

"Hey there," Ken greeted Crawford with a warm smile. He wrapped his arms around Crawford's neck and pressed a kiss, but Crawford didn't oblige. He pulled away from Ken, flung his jacket on the hotel bed, and started loosening his tie.

Ken gave him a baffled expression, but sat beside him. Ken finally asked, "What's wrong?"

"Something happened today. I don't want to talk about it." Crawford grabbed one of Ken's wrist and pushed him down on the bed. He forced a sudden, deep kiss on Ken, and Ken returned it. Crawford felt Ken start to squirm underneath him.

Crawford clenched both of Ken's wrists and dug his nails in the soft flesh. Ken struggled more.

"Stop! You're hurting me," Ken insisted, fire was in his eyes. Crawford glared, itching to punish a Mundane, any Mundane. He forced another deep kiss on Ken while trying to subdue him.

A flash hit Crawford's inner eye. This was the first vision of Ken he'd had several months ago on the subway. He was pushing Ken down, kissing him, just like he had foreseen.

Crawford jerked back and slid off of Ken. He leaned over, elbows on knees.

"What the hell has gotten into you?"

"There was a girl. I watched her get shot by a man for entertainment. I didn't stop him in time."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because sometimes, when time passes to a certain point, there is no stopping the momentum... the chain reaction of events."

"You let it go on past the point of no return?"

"She was just fourteen... at most," Crawford said, not looking at Ken. He could feel the younger man's hand move to his shoulder.

"Please, reconsider what you're doing. The path you're on leads to things like this. Just leave it all behind."

"It's beyond my control," Crawford said numbly. He wouldn't dishonor that girl's memory by giving up his ultimate goal. He still needed to sow chaos.

"Why are you so driven?" Ken asked. Crawford sensed no recrimination, just earnest concern. Ken's eyes were so pure; he remembered the first day on the subway and how innocent they were. They had that same innocence now.

"Just help me forget the world out there for a little while."

Ken now looked skeptical. Crawford reached over and brushed his thumb across Ken's cheek.

"Please," Crawford whispered.

Ken finally nodded, gave Crawford a gentle smile, and then his body relaxed. Crawford gave Ken another kiss, but this time it was gentle, more worthy of those eyes.

* * *

"You've seemed to be in such a good mood lately," Omi observed, trimming some ribbon around the vase he was working on. Ken looked around the empty store, realizing he was the one Omi was addressing. He leaned on the broom and gave a bright smile.

"Well, you've been great about the schedule. I don't have to deal with Aya. Plus, my kids are doing really well."

"No... I mean..." Omi's eyes darted back and forth; Ken felt a slight flutter of panic as Omi leaned towards him. "Most times, you seem so tense. All this month you've seemed... at peace or something. What's changed?"

Ken was a bad liar, he knew this. He also knew his face had dropped into a serious expression. He shook his head and forced a smile again. "Nothing. Just spring is here. I can get out more."

"It is a really warm May."

"I know and April was pretty hot," Ken said, feeling heat turn his face red. His guilt was now being drug out just by an honest weather assessment. He turned and started pushing dirt around the tiled floor.

"But, Ken, I just..."

Yohji, thankfully, made an appearance with a paper sack. He gave Ken and Omi an exasperated look and shook his head. "Hey, didn't you finish the Hachi order?"

"No," Omi answered peevishly. "You should have done it in the first place!"

"Hey, you're better at making things look fluffy than me!"

Ken let the ensuing bickering fade as he pushed the broom harder and slipped out to the sidewalk. He took a deep breath and was relieved to feel his skin get back to normal. His mind slipped to Omi's question; naturally, Crawford had sprung to his mind, in spite of the fight to keep thoughts of the American assassin locked away in a compartment.

All throughout April, he and Crawford had seen each other when possible. At most, it was two times a week, each visit lasting three hours at most. It wasn't enough to keep Ken satisfied, but he knew he had to accept the restraints or get caught.

"Hey, sleepy-head!" Ken whirled around to see Yohji on the sidewalk beside him. "I got the mail when I was out, and you had a letter."

He snatched the envelope; his stomach sank to see the Australian address. He jammed it in his apron pocket at Yohji's scornful shake of the head. Ken mumbled his thanks and started to sweep again.

"Oh Ken, don't tell me you have a girl you're seeing here and a long distance thing going."

"No! I wouldn't do that! Yokiro is just a friend now."

"So you're still seeing the same person since March? I thought you said you dumped her."

"I tried... yeah... I tried a couple of times, but this person is pretty persistent. Besides," Ken's eyes darted around, "This one adds some excitement."

"Hey, fine by me. I ain't judging. Noticed you haven't brought this girl around either. Hum?"

"Stop being a detective!"

"Fine... so... sorry..." Yohji said, voice dripping in sarcasm. Yohji sighed and waved his hand in annoyance. "Anyway... this girl must be something pretty different."

Yohji turned and walked back into the flower shop. Ken mumbled, "More than you know."

Ken continued to sweep until he saw Manx appear. He shook his head and followed her inside, surprised they had another mission so soon after the last one. Ken concluded it must be an emergency. They quickly shut the flower shop and joined Manx downstairs.

She made no announcements; she put in the video tape and turned the lights low. Ken let Persia's voice drone for a moment, but a photo flashed on the screen, sending a ripple of shock through him. It was the same passport photo Ken has seen a few months earlier.

"...and we have a rare opportunity tonight. Takatori is sending him to this laboratory." The picture changed to a small brick building out in the woods. Ken tilted his head downwards rather than risk meeting anyone's eyes in the dim light.

His heart pounded hard at the idea of being at cross purposes with Crawford during a mission. "The Oracle, according to our source, will be sent to gather information. I want you to recover the information before he does, and then eliminate the Oracle and any other Schwarz members with him."

Ken felt the rest of the breath knocked out of him when he glanced at the other three photos of Schwarz members pop on the screen. One thing he had figured out about Crawford during their tryst, Crawford was devoted to Schwarz. If he had to attack one of the other Schwarz members, he wondered what Crawford would do. "Hunters of the night..."

Ken bolted from the sofa and started pacing. He flinched before he ran into Aya. The lights flared on, and he was dismayed to see all eyes on him, all faces baffled.

"You're shaking. What's got you so wound up?" Yohji finally asked.

"Nothing," Ken snapped. He turned to Manx and nodded. "I'm in."

She nodded slowly, giving him a scrutinizing look. She asked, "Who else?"

"Me too," Aya said.

"All of us should go," Omi said, "if Schwarz could be involved."

"Thanks for volunteering me, Omi," Yohji said, then let out an exaggerated sigh. Ken was unnerved by how those curious, emerald eyes kept following him, not to mention Aya's icy, violet eyes wouldn't leave him either. Yohji smacked his hands on his thighs and rose. "Guess we better get something to eat and get rolling so we can beat the freak show."

Ken bit his bottom lip against his boiling temper. Crawford had notions and morals that didn't suit Ken, and he couldn't ignore those. But he no longer let Crawford's odd ability into his awareness.

Before Ken could follow the others upstairs, he felt Manx's hand on his elbow. "You seem agitated. Are you sure..."

"I'm fine, Manx! I've got to go run an errand before we go on the mission," Ken mumbled the last sentence and bolted away from the redheaded woman.

To be continued.


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Round and Round, part 8

Author's Notes: I hope ya'll are liking this. It's kind of a struggle, but enjoyable. PS- I have a horrid Midwestern accent so I can tease it all I want!

Beta Reader: My wonderful hubby, WingedPanther73. A very convenient beta-read!

Word Count = 3,130

August 29, 2010 9:45pm

"And I want you to go spy on Masafumi tonight. I've been planning on sending you for a week, now is a great opportunity because Masafumi is still out of town. Figure out what's going on at that small lab he's running on the side," Reiji said, before swinging his golf club up. "I cut him off, and he's still getting money, somehow. I want something blackmail worthy so I can get him back in line."

"I'll investigate it," Crawford answered.

"Good. And, I'll be visiting my daughter tonight, so tell my chef to have everything perfect on the way out."

Crawford's eyes narrowed while Takatori examined the end of his golf club. It wasn't often he indulged in something as base as envy, but he'd love to have Nagi's abilities at that moment so he could wrap the club around the Japanese politician's thick neck for giving him such a... _mundane_... task. His visualization of the fantasy murder was gently nudged aside as a vision came to his mind.

Somehow, tonight, Schreient would show up and corner Crawford in Masafumi's lab just as he was stealing a file. He and Hell would have words, and she would throw a knife at him. He, of course, would have foreseen that and easily caught it, but Siberian was going to pounce from a hiding place in the ceiling rafters and block the knife. It would be buried in Ken's chest, and he'd fall, clammy from blood loss. Seconds later, the rest of Weiss would show up and a fight between them and Schreient would break out. The vision abruptly stopped before he could foresee the extent of Ken's injuries.

He pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, now in a quandary. What would the Weiss assassins be doing at Masafumi's laboratory unless there was someone to assassinate? He hadn't seen anyone else except that cow, Hell, and the rest of her irritating bunch. Could Weiss be getting more aggressive or...

His cell phone rang softly; he glanced at the number after making sure Takatori was wrapped up with his putting. He frowned at the unfamiliar number and mashed the decline button.

He turned and left Takatori's office. Crawford paused after he entered the elevator, fingers hovering above the ground floor button as his memory recalled the piece of the vision where Ken took the knife, foolishly trying to protect him. Why shouldn't he allow it to happen, especially, to a Mundane who was, by indications from his clairvoyance, going to cause problems for his ultimate goal?

Crawford pushed the button for the ground floor, deciding Ken was getting to be too problematic and needed to be eliminated from his life. He decided to let Ken take the knife, and then help Schreient take care of Weiss. Then he'd be done with this complication he was foolish to indulge in this first place.

His phone rang again; it was the same unknown number. Crawford felt a nudge from seconds in the future; he could hear Ken's frantic, soft voice. He held it to his ear after hitting receive.

"You know better than to call me," Crawford snapped, leaning against the back wall of the elevator.

"But you don't understand... please just listen to me... you're in danger tonight. Don't go to the lab. You're now a target," Ken pleaded, his voice was so low Crawford could barely hear the words.

"How did you know I have a mission tonight?"

"I can't tell you. Just, please, don't go. Brad?"

Crawford stifled his slight surprise at hearing his first name being used by Ken; it had always been an unspoken taboo before.

"Please, don't go. Aya... Abyssinian is going to be there, and he's really determined to kill you."

Crawford felt a smile come to his lips at the slight slip, but he frowned as a disturbing thought occurred to him. He then asked, "Why are you pointlessly risking this call?"

There was silence until the elevator bell sounded and the door opened. "I... don't know... I shouldn't have. I did this before, and it didn't work out."

"Before?" Crawford asked just as Ken hung up on him. He glared at his cell phone and then left the elevator. Now he knew Ken was getting too reckless and too attached to this arrangement. Still, this could be the point Crawford could start using Ken for more leverage against Weiss. If Ken was willing to warn Crawford of a hit, then couldn't Crawford lure him to progressively larger acts of betrayal? Maybe Ken needed to be kept from Hell's knife; he could achieve his purpose in sleeping with Ken in the first place, getting leverage over Weiss.

He hit number one on his speed dial and waited for the, "Why didn't you just use your head."

"No time to explain, Schuldig. Get over here to Takatori's. You need to go through the place for anyone who could be a Kritiker snitch."

Schuldig chuckled and said, "I'll bring Farfarello."

"Good, you two should be able to handle it. Don't wait up tonight."

"Hot date with your mystery lover?"

"Actually, yes," Crawford said, smirking wickedly because he could answer honestly. He clicked his phone off and went to go fulfill his tasks.

He knew Schuldig figured out he hadn't stopped playing with Siberian, but Schuldig knew not to spread it around or press his luck with curiosity. Crawford did wonder how long Schuldig would restrain himself.

* * *

"I did this before, and it didn't work out," Ken mumbled, hanging up the green pay phone's handset. "Not again."

Guilt started gnawing at his stomach; he jambed his hands in his khakis and wandered the five blocks back towards the flower shop. He had struggled with his conflicting loyalties before. First between Kase and and Weiss and then between Yoriko and Weiss.

The memory of Manx's words about deciding where his loyalties lay played through his head. But he had thought Kase was innocent, and he knew Yoriko was pure; he didn't disillusion himself about Crawford. Still, he made the choice to tip off the American even when he was clearly an enemy.

He dug his fingernails deeper into his palms, trying to figure out why he had ran to the phone and told the man. One moment, Crawford would be kind and actually show a dry sense of humor, but the next he would be aloof and distant. It kept Ken perpetually confused and fascinated.

He wanted to learn more about Crawford, but he revealed so little. Ken also could tell Crawford had been trying to coax him into revealing things about his life, but he still couldn't trust the Schwarz assassin's intentions, even thought he desperately wanted to. All of his teammate's lives could be in jeopardy, and so many other things if he misplaced too much trust.

Ken took a deep, cleansing breath before entering the flower shop again. He hoped Crawford would bring along the others tonight so his mind could stop whirling around how to prevent Aya and the others from killing the Schwarz leader.

* * *

Crawford turned the borrowed car down a winding road. It was now a dark and unusually warm summer night. He finally found a wooded place to park a distance from the laboratory. He checked his cell phone and noted, with irritation, Schuldig and the unknown number had popped up a total of twenty-thee times during the afternoon. Not only that, Schludig's incessant buzzing was edging him towards a slight headache.

Crawford had wanted to deal with this alone, which was a rare choice for him. He and Schwarz were always of the same mind, but he wasn't so sure a three way fight with Weiss and Schreient would be in his teammates' best interest. He was still trying to maintain a low profile, so they could build their influence behind the scenes for the elimination of everyone who would use Talents like soulless tools, including the upper echelons of Eszett.

He shook his head in irritation as a memory of Ken came to him. It happened early on in their encounters and only once. Ken had been propped up on his elbow looking at Crawford with innocent curiosity; he was on the extreme opposite edge of the bed they were sharing. They were both sweaty and still catching their breath after an intense sexual encounter.

The Siberian had dared to ask the Oracle why he'd work for criminals when he could do so much good for people. Crawford felt his body stiffen with malice; he told Ken he was too simple to understand. What he had meant to say to Ken was that he couldn't understand what it was like being used as a cheap Ouija Board by greedy sociopaths.

How could he tell that to Ken, why should he tell that to him, anyway? Ken had willingly handed himself to be Crawford's toy, at best. It made Crawford wonder if Ken thought he was going to play him and gain leverage over Schwarz. This was how Crawford saw Mundanes, as tools or as users; what bothered him is Ken didn't fit nicely in either category.

Crawford didn't have Schuldig's telepathy, but he certainly knew he'd hurt the young man with that particular rebuff. After that, Ken tried his hardest to maintain things as a cool arrangement for unattached sex. Crawford knew now, it was beyond Ken's abilities to not attach himself. It seemed the more frigid he was towards the young man, the more insatiable Ken became.

As he made his way to the laboratory, he shoved Ken out of his thoughts so his mind could focus. He'd need his clairvoyance with nothing tainting his visions, especially emotions.

* * *

"This assignment is isn't too great," Yohji admitted, picking the lock to the small, countryside laboratory. Ken kept his eyes moving, ignoring Yohji's assessment. Aya seemed focused on the door, very impatient, in spite of Yohji's speed and grace.

Omi caught Ken's eye and gave him a worried glance. Ken turned away and scanned the darkened woods around the laboratory. For a split second, he wondered if he saw a dim light in the woods.

"Come on," Yohji whispered after he swung the door open. Ken took a deep breath and started praying he would find Crawford before the others. What he really prayed is that Crawford heeded his warning and would stay away.

"Let's split up," Omi whispered. "But be careful and keep hidden."

Ken didn't wait to be told twice; he took off down a hallway to the right, having no real clue if Crawford was in this place. All he knew was he wanted this situation to have a peaceful outcome, but knowing the history between Weiss and Schwarz, he doubted there could be one. It only made his mind swirl in recrimination for let himself get in a vulnerable position.

He snuck into a dark room carefully. It reeked of bleach, but he felt lucky. He saw a bank of computers and knew this room would likely be Crawford's target. His job was to call Omi to gather the information, and then they would all wait for Crawford and kill the man.

Instead he froze, not able to get Omi over their com link. He felt torn, not really amazed he had allowed himself to develop some loyalty to Crawford, in spite of his efforts to use their rendezvous to satisfy something he couldn't define: an addiction to danger, a need for punishment, or the challenge of facing an opponent. It wasn't making sense any longer.

Ken looked up to the low ceiling and took the leap upwards to the rafters. He pulled himself into the shadows and decided to wait. He figured Omi, Aya, and Yohji wouldn't come around, since he was supposed to scout this area.

He still wasn't sure about what he was going to do if, or when, Crawford showed. He didn't have long to wait before seeing the American, dressed in a white suit, stride into the darkened room. He watched Crawford walk over to the computers and start one up; his fingers flew over the keys in an effort to break in. Ken could tell their was success by the smug look lighting up Crawford's face. He quickly popped in a blank disk and began downloading information Omi should have had access to.

Again, Ken froze, being as still as he could, even thought anger hit him. He couldn't understand why Crawford would ignore his warnings, but he wasn't surprised the man was egotistical enough to think he could handle all of Weiss.

Then again, was the rest of Schwarz lurking nearby? And if so, would Crawford take as much care at keeping Schwarz at bay from Ken as he was keeping Weiss at bay? His disturbed thoughts were interrupted as the four women marched in. Ken stifled his gasp at Schreient's unexpected appearance.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Brad?" the raven-haired leader shouted.

Crawford turned around with lazy grace and pushed his glassed high on his nose. "Doing you a favor, Hell."

She looked baffled, then worried, when Crawford drew his gun. He looked directly at Ken, even thought he was shrouded in total darkness. He took aim and said, "You have a pest problem."

Horror ran thought Ken as three shots didn't quite kiss his left cheek. More shots ran out as Ken's instincts took over. He felt his balance change, and then he plunged to the floor. He landed on his feet and quickly had his claws ready.

"What is Weiss doing here!" Schön shrieked, her red whip flashed bright in the corner of Ken's eyes, but his direct sight was locked on Crawford's impassive face.

"Grab him!" Hell shouted. Ken prepared for Schön's onslaught, but he was relived to see the gleam of Aya's katana as he rushed into the room. Yohji soon followed with Omi trailing behind. Everything became a whirl as Ken did his best to fight off Schön. He caught sight of Crawford lofting a computer disk and nodding at him before he disappeared out the door.

Ken turned his fury and sense of betrayal on Schön. He swept her legs as Hell shouted, "Damn it, Brad! You come back here."

She made the mistake of turning her back to Aya, and he was able to get a swipe at her arm. Tot then lunged at Aya and threw him off balance. Hell ordered, "Forget Weiss! Go after Crawford!"

Schreient obeyed and retreated out of the door, leaving Weiss winded and a little bloody. Ken ran to the door and watched the women go after Crawford. There was a part of him that hope Hell would kick the snot out of Crawford. He shook that initial thought off and was dismayed to feel anxiousness over Crawford underneath it all.

* * *

Crawford strode into Schwarz's high-rise apartment and slammed the door in aggravation. The image of Ken's hurt eyes wouldn't leave him the whole way home. Fortunately, Schuldig and Farfarello were in the living-room, both looking rather pleased with themselves.

"Bad date?"

"Did you find the leak?" Crawford asked, refusing to engage Schuldig.

"We did, and I don't think you'll be surprised."

"Oh?"

"You'll get a chance to hear that horrid American Midwestern accent you happen to have."

Crawford gave him a baffled expression, but quickly followed Schuldig down the hall to the locked room they kept for just such emergencies. Farfarello flung the door open; Crawford couldn't miss the wicked, hungry gleam in his amber, left eye. He knew he needed loosen Farfarello's leash soon, but only slightly.

Crawford marched into the dim room and saw the shapely blond tied to a chair. She was still in formal business attire, a nice blouse and skirt in shades of purple, but now they were ripped and rumpled. Her hair was usually swept up and piled high on her head, but now it tumbled around her shoulders.

He gave her an annoyed expression before forcing her chin up so her blue eyes met his. He sneered and said in English, "Why Miss Josie Camron, what have you done?"

"Nothing!"

"Liar," Schuldig said with a low growl. "She's your snitch."

"Who would have suspected a former Miss Iowa, turned translator, would ever be working for a covert Japanese organization bent on destroying criminal activity? Pretty cleaver choice on Kritiker's part," Crawford mused. "Of course, this poses a problem."

"What problem?" Schuldig snapped.

"We need our hands clean... for now. Go take her to Hirofumi, with my compliments. He'll think we're being generous, but I'd rather have Kritiker after him," Crawford said, avoiding the fear and hatred in her eyes. He couldn't help it that the woman made a bad choice to cross Schwarz; he couldn't risk letting her go. He could tell his two teammates weren't immune to her emotions; they were relishing them.

Farfarello started cutting her loose from the chair when Crawford turned to leave. Schuldig caught his shoulder and asked, "Where are you going?"

"To make an apology," Crawford said.

"Be careful. Cats like to bite when they're angry," Schuldig said, with a smirk.

Crawford quickly left and got down to his car. His got out his cell phone and hesitated for a half a minute. He could foresee he was going to have to do more than just apologize to woo Ken back. He reached in his jacket pocket and dug out the disk with the stolen information. Crawford sighed and thought quickly of a suitable lie for Takatori, right before dialing Ken's cell phone number he hadn't used in two months.

"It's you?" Ken answered.

"Meet me."

"So you can finish the job?"

"No, so I can give you the information Weiss was after... and to apologize. It was necessary."

"Necessary! You could have killed me."

"Listen. Meet me in an hour, or I hand the information over to my employer."

There was a long pause, and then he asked "Where?"

"Shibuya Elmitaju. Just in front of the theater." Crawford hit the disconnect and got into his car. A brief glimmer of a vision told him Ken would more than forgive him before the dawn broke.

To be continued.


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Round and Round, part 9

Author's Notes: Sorry this took so long. My work obligations were pretty heavy last few weeks.

Beta Reader: My wonderful hubby, WingedPanther73. Thanks for putting up with this slashy-fic!

Word Count = 3,088

September 19, 2010 9:55pm/ picked up again: March 27, 2011

Author's Note: I want to apology for walking away from writing in the middle of a story. (Actually, three of them) There were a lot of personal things going on, including a paid writing gig. Kids' workbook, but it's a start! I hope you forgive me and will pick this up again. I've got time to be more faithful now. Thanks for all my loyal readers.

Ken's lips clenched tighter when Crawford pulled up beside his motorcycle. Crawford rolled down his window; all he said was, "Follow me."

The Japanese assassin bit down his frustration, but drove after the Austin-Healy. After several long moments, Ken parked across the lot in a Denny's restaurant. He really had no use for the American restaurant so popular with other Japanese his age. Crawford must be homesick, Ken thought dryly.

He gave Crawford a grim expression when he walked up to the car. Crawford jerked his head to the door, but Ken crossed his arms and said, "I'm not hungry."

"Well, I am."

Ken didn't have the energy to argue with Crawford; he just wanted to get this over with and end things with Crawford. He marched after the American. They were seated quickly. Ken noticed it was a little after one in the morning, so there were only a few high-schoolers scattered around, paying them no attention.

Crawford quickly ordered a large, American-styled breakfast and black coffee; the idea of eating anything that heavy turned Ken's stomach. He ordered orange juice, and the waitress left.

While they waited, and even after the waitress brought Crawford his large meal, they were both absolutely silent. She eyed Ken after placing a second glass of orange juice in front of him. Irritation crossed her face before she left, probably because he hadn't ordered food. Crawford attacked his pancakes, keeping his eyes on Ken.

"You're going to ask me why I shot at you tonight," Crawford said. Ken appreciated Crawford's bluntness, but he wasn't sure what followed was going to be the truth.

"I tried to warn you to stay away. I tried to protect you, but you wouldn't listen to me."

Crawford's face turned sour. "Didn't it occur to you that I had already foreseen everything? Including you getting stabbed by Hell?"

Ken flinched back, recalling what had played out earlier. "What do you mean?"

Crawford looked over the top of his glasses and said, "Hell was going to stab me, but you would have jumped down and let her hit you, protecting me. All very needless because I had everything planned, but your interference is not tolerable."

Ken was taken aback. He felt his face flush, his clenched fists rested on the table, but he didn't break eye contact.

"I recall you interfering with one of my missions at the start of this whole mess. You almost got Abyssinian's attention."

"There's a difference. I knew in advance what was going to happen. You didn't. When you charge in, like you were about to tonight, I have to split my concentration and work around you."

He glared before asking, "And all you could come up with is to shoot at me?"

"I wanted to get your attention," Crawford said so placidly it left Ken feeling thunderstruck. Crawford glared back and said, "This isn't a game. Stay out of my way outside the bedroom. This is the only warning I'm going to give you."

Ken shivered as Crawford's eyes unfocused. He knew Crawford just well enough to know he was seeing something that was going to happen. Suddenly, the man looked annoyed, almost vexed. The man started sipping his coffee.

"What was..." Ken started off, but Crawford held up his hand.

"Hell isn't finished causing me problems, but I'll worry about that later." Crawford continued, after setting his mug on the table, "We're destined to meet on missions. That's why there has to be clarity about where the boundary is."

Ken's heart thudded so loudly he was sure Crawford could hear it. He wondered how Crawford could split this so cleanly; then Ken flinched back. Hadn't compartmentalizing been how he justified this relationship in the first place? Now, it seemed Ken had crossed that clear boundary tonight by mixing a Weiss mission with concern for Crawford.

"Ken?"

He started at his name and looked down to where he had his own left wrist in a firm grip. He yanked his hands off the table and hid them underneath. He looked up to see Crawford's face, very grave.

Choler pushed wariness out of Ken's consciousness; confusion over why he had started with Crawford in the first place stoked self anger. "What do you want from me?"

Crawford was silent for several long minutes before he said, "Stay out of my way."

Ken flinched back and gave him a determined scowl, "Not if what you're doing is going to hurt innocent people. I can't stay out of your way then."

A subtle smile came to Crawford's lips. Ken felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. "Fine, if you want it that way."

"Hun?" Bafflement smacked Ken as a smug expression crept across Crawford's face. He expected Crawford to storm out or make threats, but the man seemed perfectly at ease with the tenuous situation. The whole situation cause Ken to feel on unequal footing; once again, choler leaped to the surface. He detested feeling as if he were some pawn in a game.

Crawford reached over and picked up Ken's hand. Ken looked down at the fingertips Crawford was examining. "Your fingers are dirty. Very frequently. I wonder why there's always soil under the nails."

Ken yanked his hand away from Crawford when he noticed a group of high-school girl staring and whispering at them from across the restaurant. Crawford looked over and smiled at them. "They probably think we make a cute couple."

"Brad!" Ken hissed, hunkering down and wishing his face would stopping being so red.

The American stood up, threw some money on the table, and nodded towards the door. "If you have a few hours, I'd like to do some things to you that aren't so cute."

Ken looked up slyly. There was that smugness, but it had grown endearing to Ken. He sighed and stood up. "I still really don't like you."

"I still know," Crawford said, right before they left.

* * *

Schuldig opened the trunk of his car and stepped aside for Hirofumi Takatori to peer into the darkness. It was a moonless midnight in the middle of a Japanese woods. The man lofted a flashlight; the bound woman inside the trunk struggled and tried to scream against her gag. Hirofumi let out a low whistle and nodded.

"For free?" he asked.

"Absolutely," Schuldig said, flashing a sly smile as he picked up the dread from the woman's mental screams. "Crawford wants her gone. By the morning. No trace, no questions, no special request."

Hirofumi's eyes narrowed. "Masafumi warned me about Crawford. He seems to think any gifts like this come with strings."

"Not a one. She's just an inconvenience that could harm your father's interest. Now, be a dutiful son and get rid of the bitch," Schuldig said.

Hirofumi took out a cigar in contemplation, lit it, and puffed away. Schulidg read the man's mind. He was weighing his loyalty between his father and his brother. Schuldig could see loyalty to Masafumi was winning out, so Schuldig decided to tip odds in Reiji's favor. He reached in the darkness of the trunk and yanked the waif of a woman out by her upper arms.

He shoved her against the car and ripped open her blouse; she struggled and tried to run, but he kept her pinned. Schuldig kept his mind open towards Hirofumi. There it was: lust. Schuldig caressed her bare, creamy shoulder with the back of his knuckles. Her revulsion and fear was overwhelming, very powerful, absolutely intoxicating to Schuldig. Mixed with Hirofumi's lustful, sadistic impulse, it was almost more than Schuldig could take.

"Don't question our generosity. Just enjoy," Schuldig said. Hirofumi tossed the cigar to the ground, stomped it out, and grabbed the American spy towards him. Schuldig gave a half nod and got back into the diver's seat. He looked over to were Farfarello was staring off into space.

"Now that's done," Schuldig said. Farfarello's eye shifted to the rear-view mirror. "Let's get out of here before I ignore Crawford's orders."

"Too bad we couldn't have a little sport tonight," Farfarello murmured, still watching the struggling woman in Hirofumi's arms. Schuldig paused before turning on the ignition. He looked up to the mirror to watch the action. Hirofumi now had her free of her bonds. He fired a gun in the air as she fled from him. He stretched out his mind towards the hedonistic fantasy playing out in Hirofumi's mind.

"And I bet Crawford found some sport tonight," Schuldig grumbled. He started the ignition as Farfarello gave him a baffled expression. "Oh... you don't know... over the past few months Crawford has been keeping a little secret."

* * *

"You're trembling. Are you alright?" Crawford whispered in the darkened hotel room. Ken felt tiny bumps come to his skin as Crawford's fingers drifted down his bare arm. He moaned and laid his forehead on Crawford's shoulder.

"I..." There was so much he wanted to say. He caught what he was going to say out of fear of what Crawford would do. He felt Crawford tilt his chin upwards. His heart raced with the light, gentle kiss. His stomach fluttered as the kiss deepened; Ken could feel Crawford's hunger behind it. Want filled Ken, too, but there was also something underneath it that Ken had managed to push down in the past. Now, it was boiling in his chest.

"Don't say anything... I know what you're going to say," Crawford said softly in his ear.

Everything became a blaze of emotions. Ken fell back on the bed, taking Crawford with him. This felt different than every time before. He felt vulnerable, but there wasn't the nagging fear of betrayal. Crawford wouldn't share his motives with Ken, but he understood what had designed those motives. It was isolation, prejudices, and even anger. These were all things that united him with Crawford, and this is what quelled his doubts about bad intentions Crawford may have towards him.

Crawford's breathe was hot on his neck. Ken wrapped his arms around Crawford's shoulders, knowing his heart was totally open. Now, there was no going back for Ken; there was no getting his heart back from the clairvoyant, even if he wanted to change his mind.

"Brad?"

"Hum?" Crawford didn't stop traveling downwards, trailing small, nibbling kisses across his chest. Ken's fingers moved to Crawford's dark hair.

"Do you know what's going to happen to us?"

Crawford froze and then rose slightly, meeting Ken's eyes in the dim light. "I thought you preferred the surprise and the challenge of confronting the unknown."

"I do, but... This is too good to be true. I just don't want things to change."

Crawford frowned, and shifted on top of Ken's body. "Do you really want to know, or do you trust me to do what's best?"

Something was so dour in Crawford's voice; he felt a slight trepidation. Ken took a deep breath and shook his head. "I can deal with what comes. I don't need to know. No, don't tell me."

Crawford nodded solemnly, and there was something in his eyes Ken had only glimpsed before. He had no idea what Crawford was feeling right now, but he sincerely hoped it was something close to what he felt. No more words passed as Crawford slowly continued giving Ken pleasure and then took his own.

It all seemed too brief when Ken came crashing downwards from the heady sensations. He was in for a surprise when Crawford didn't move. He pulled Ken into his arms and whispered, "Stay the rest of the night with me."

Ken knew there could be trouble in the morning if Yohji were coming into the flower shop from a late night, or if Aya was in a cranky mood. Still, this was something he wanted. It'd be worth the risk and worth having to tell a lie just for this one, dark stolen moment with Crawford.

* * *

Waking up beside someone was disorienting. When Ken realized it was Crawford, a thrill ran through him. He quashed it, knowing he had to leave soon. Crawford stirred and opened his eyes. His hand immediately went for his glasses on the nightstand. He put them on and sat up beside Ken.

"You have got to leave now," Crawford said.

"I know." Ken didn't confess he wanted to stay. He slid out of the bed, got a quick shower, and pulled on his clothing. He jammed his hands in his coat pocket, looking for his motorcycle key. The thought of running into Crawford during a mission started to nag at him, there was guilt playing at the edges. He was wondering if he could manage playing it cool in front of his teammates' scrutiny.

"Yes?" Crawford prompted.

"I, uh, don't want you to get into trouble with your employer. What was so important last night."

"Kritiker didn't tell you?"

Ken's face flushed at the implication. He was a tool to them and Crawford knew it. "Our job was to... eliminate Schwarz and gather information about what Masafumi Takatori is doing out there."

Crawford adjusted his glasses and leaned against the headboard. "It's information that could stop Masafumi Takatori's experiments. His father wants to cut his funding off, so I was trying to find out what he had invented, and who he sold it to. That way, Old Man Takatori can deal with his son and stop him."

"So in a way... you'd be saving Kritiker and Weiss a whole lot of trouble by letting Takatori deal with his son, and then we wouldn't have to."

"Exactly," Crawford answered blandly. Ken let out a deep breath and felt a sense of relief.

He gave Crawford a lop-sided smile. "Make sure Schreient gets a dose of their own medicine, too."

Ken was about to leave, awkward because he didn't know how to say goodbye gracefully. After all, it was always Crawford who left first. Crawford grabbed his wrist and traced soft circles with his thumb on the underside. "Next Thursday. Meet me in the lobby of this hotel. Seven in the evening."

Ken smiled and nodded, wishing Crawford wouldn't stop the tender gesture. He pulled away reluctantly. It wasn't long before he was on his motorcycle speeding thought the bright morning towards the flower shop.

* * *

Crawford walked into Schwarz's apartment. Nagi was sitting on the sofa; he looked up at Crawford and opened his mouth. Crawford held up his hand and shook his head.

"Your little girlfriend came by today, but she had an agenda. Looking for me?"

"You made her mad. Hell wants to have some words with you. About a mission last night," Nagi answered.

"Don't worry about them. Everything will be smoothed out. Schuldig and Farfarello?"

"Asleep."

"Good. Stay clear of Schreient. That includes Tot." Crawford turned to walk down the hallway, but paused when Nagi made a small snort.

"Schuldig and Farfarello were gossiping last night. I heard them say something..."

"Nothing for you to worry about. I've got everything handled." Crawford turned to face Nagi. The telekinetic bolted off the sofa and glared at Crawford.

"You're a hypocrite," Nagi said, not exactly meeting Crawford's eyes, but he could see the angry trembling shoulders that told him everything. "You won't let me see Tot, but... but... you're seeing..."

"None of your business," Crawford snapped. He hadn't expected this at all. Nagi looked up at him, those eyes were wise, and very calm. The teenager was willing to listen, and Crawford felt as though he did owe some respect to Nagi for all their team had been through together. "Listen, I have a purpose for doing what I am. I'm working on caving in Weiss from the inside. It's rather complicated. You have too many feelings for Tot that can be used against you." He walked over and put a hand on Nagi's shoulder. "Trust me, it's for your own good, the good of Schwarz and our goals, that you leave Tot alone."

Nagi nodded, he wore a bitter, yet accepting expression. "Schwarz is the most important thing," Nagi agreed, but blushed horribly. He looked suddenly awkward. "It's just that Schuldig is convinced you're not playing the game with Weiss as you should. It's just that... Schwarz comes first, and... well... Schuldig is worried."

"Isn't it time you get to school?" Crawford snapped before the boy could continue in his misdirection and thinly veiled concern for his safety. Nagi seemed unsatisfied, but obeyed Crawford's orders. He picked up his school bag and left the dim apartment.

He'd deal with Schuldig's mouth later, but now he had to deal with Hell. No doubt she was waiting at Takatori's office, waiting to take a piece out of him. "May as well get this over with," he murmured before freshening up with a shower and a new suit.

* * *

Manx looked at the glossy photos with growing horror. She looked over to where Persia sat behind his desk. She put the folder back on the desk and shook her head.

"They found her early this afternoon," Persia answered. "Somehow, she was made."

"But she was American. Her file was clean," Manx replied, stunned. She'd read the detail of the woman's death; it was brutal and unforgiving. She was tortured, raped, and finally strangled to death. Her body was left mutilated in a public dumpster.

"Miss Camron was found. Somehow. We need to reassess everyone. Start doing covert surveillance and clear everyone. Start with Weiss. Check on their lives outside of their cover. Then move to Kritiker field agents. I want to make sure we have no leaks on our side."

"I'm sure everything on our side will check out. Takatori has some rather strong people working for him."

"Still, for my own peace of mind."

Manx nodded and turned on her heels. She left, pushing aside the horror and anger over Josie's untimely death. She hated feeling like she was chasing around in pointless circles, but she had to admit, it had been a while since Weiss and Kritiker field agents had been checked. It couldn't hurt.

To be continued.


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Round and Round, part 10

Author's Notes: Sorry this has been so long in the making. The summer was way busier than I anticipated, but I survived. Enjoy.

Beta Reader: My wonderful hubby, WingedPanther73. Thanks for putting up with this slashy-fic!

Word Count = 3,553

April 3, 2011 11:53am

Crawford hit the up button in the elevator and checked his watch: ten in the morning. It was three hours later than his normal work day began, but that was in his advantage. He pictured Hell in his mind's eye, really seething, waiting for him. Sure enough, the woman was waiting by his locked office door, looking the very image of rage.

She was leaning against the door, but straightened up the minute Crawford stepped off the elevator. He noted she was dressed in her same getup from last night, but had no visible weapons. He was surprised no other Schreient ladies were waiting for him. Then again, no doubt, Hell was just that arrogant, thinking she could handle any one member of Schwarz by herself.

"Good morning, Aoi-san. The weather is unusually warm today," Crawford said, slipping into his best Japanese manners. Her glare grew sharper.

"Don't play with me, Crawford. I've warned you before to stay out of Masafumi's way. Now, hand over what you've stolen."

"Too late. I've already sent it to Takatori. You should have waited for me by the security's desk and intercepted the guard I had deliver it a few minutes ago." Crawford's expression grew smug as she paled. "Of course, you could go with me to meet with Takatori in a few minutes. I'm sure he'll have questions. You could provide insight, since Masafumi is still out of town."

"You bastard," she snarled, clenching her fists. "You won't get away with this!"

"I already have. Now, you'll have to stay out of my way."

Suddenly, her face took on a gloating expression. "Well, it's not as if you succeeded. You couldn't even hit that clumsily Weiss."

"It'll be Schwarz who takes care of Weiss when the time is right, without Schreient getting in the way."

"We'll see about that." Her expression grew just as smug as his. Something was going on in her head, and Crawford knew her intelligence wasn't to be underestimated. "I know Weiss and Schwarz haven't forged some sort of alliance, but it was strange how you missed and didn't stick around to help us. Something has been bothering me about that engagement last night. After all, you have a reputation as a master marksman. And you couldn't put a bullet in an addled, teenage boy? Mighty odd, wouldn't you say?"

Crawford refused to let his annoyance show. He started to wonder if it was really that obvious he was protecting Ken, or if she was trying to rattle his cage with a few wild, insulting accusations, hoping he'd slip up.

Fortunately, Crawford's cell phone rang; it was Takatori wanting him to meet in the top suite of the building. He turned towards the elevator and gave her a dismissive wave. He could hear her teeth grind together a moment before she shouted, "You'll regret this!"

"Have a nice day," he called out as the door closed. He relaxed against the wall opposite the elevator door as it lifted upwards. He frowned to himself and decided Hell was just trying to taunt him; still, accusations like a Schwarz-Weiss alliance could be dangerous, even deadly, if they took root.

He'd have to do something about this situation with Ken. More than likely, it was time to put the pressure on Ken to hand Weiss over. He wouldn't let this go on to the point it would destroy Schwarz and everything he had worked so hard for. After all, he wasn't going to go past the point of no return with that vision he'd had that first night over dinner. Still, at the back of his mind was the thought of Ken going insane. That one particular vision still nagged him from time to time.

* * *

"And where the hell have you been?"

Ken flinched at Aya's low, frosty tone and dropped the key to his motorcycle. He heard it clatter on the hardwood, living room floor, but his eyes were fixed on Aya's glower. The late morning light was filling the rundown loft apartment above the flower shop.

Ken stiffened up his startled expression and snapped, "I thought you and Yohji were scheduled today."

"We were, but it's slow. And Omi is still here."

"What? Omi has school and..."

"Manx came by around six this morning," Aya's low, gravelly voice interrupted. "A Kritiker agent spying on Takatori was killed. It looks Schwarz related." He crossed his arms and stood in Ken's path before he could bolt downstairs to the Weiss 'war room.'

Ken drew up short. "Out of the way!"

"Manx had another reason for her visit."

Ken paused, that wasn't normal. She'd only show up before missions or in emergencies. What was odder to Ken was Omi missing school. He was so devoted to his education. Ken pushed past Aya and jogged all the way to the basement under the flower shop.

Aya followed slowly, but Ken's attention was on Omi, who was slumped over his computer in an alcove. Omi turned just as Ken was about to ask what he was still doing. The dark, frustrated expression froze Ken's question.

"Ken! Where have you been?"

"I told you last night I wanted to just take a ride. That mission took it out of me, and I just needed some space. I let time get away from me. Sorry, should have given you a call." Ken grew more contrite with Omi's confrontation than Aya's. "I thought you said you didn't have anything else for me to do."

"The hard drive I took while you three were chasing after Schreient and the Oracle wound up being a dead end. I needed to ask you if anyone had a chance to tamper with it before we got there? Didn't you say the Oracle was already there?"

"I don't know... everything was so fast. He drew a gun on me. Shots. Then you guys came in. I guess he was at the computer... sometime... he could have," Ken mumbled, hoping his hot face wasn't telling on him.

Omi shook his head, the dark circles under his eyes were deep. He pleaded, "Ken, just think back and give me some details. Did you see the Oracle do anything? Before you went into the room."

"No," Ken blurted.

"Then he came in after you were in the room? He didn't see you?"

"You didn't attack him?" Aya cut in, marching to stand behind Omi's chair, an accusation in his amethyst eyes.

"I told you it was quick. He pulled a gun before I could get the jump on him! It's not as if you've gotten the upper hand on him, Aya," Ken snapped back.

"Okay, we're all tired, but I need to know if he had access to the computer," Omi said, firmly shooting them both dirty looks.

"Yes. Just for a moment," Ken babbled only to get a disgusted grunt from Aya. "I did everything I could." Ken felt the deep sting in his chest, lying never settled well, but he was in a corner.

"Okay. Then it was tampered with. I don't think he had time to scrub everything off the hard drive. I can probably rescue it."

"I mean, is it really necessary? What if Schwarz were going to move against Schreient? We wouldn't have to get in the middle... of..." Ken couldn't help trailing off and getting chilled by the sudden quiet. He worked up a glare for his teammates. "Why are you both looking at me like that!"

"What the hell are you three doing? I can hear you all the way up on the shop floor!" Yohji hissed through gritted teeth while scrambling down the spiral staircase. "Customers will hear you!"

"Butt out!" Aya snapped at Yohji. Yohji glowered at Aya, full attention turned on the icy redhead.

A bickering match between Aya and Yohji erupted with Omi being caught in the middle, trying his hardest to mediate. Ken took this as his opportunity to run off. Out of the basement, out of the shop, and back into the warm, summer dawn.

Ken bent over, trembling, and put his hands on his knees after he stopped in the alleyway beside the shop. He gradually got a hold of his breath. His mind drifted to the night before. The threat of loosing Crawford struggled for supremacy over the threat of getting caught by his teammates. The gravity of the situation was weighing on him. He'd have to break off his relationship with the American next Thursday, regardless of his druthers.

* * *

Manx was going to go down the list of four Weiss assassins in order of when they joined the team: Omi, Yohji, Ken, and Aya. She sat in the coffee shop across the street from the flower shop as her mind changed. She had just finished telling Omi, Aya, and Youji about the death of Kritiker's field agent, Ken wasn't around. The three Weiss were surprised and disturbed. Omi offered to help, but she told him it would be handled internally.

She then asked Omi how far along he had gotten with the information gathering last night. Not far enough, she replied to the report Omi handed her. She emphasized how vital it was to crack what Masafumi was up to. Omi nodded and devoted his concentration on what Weiss had recovered last night from Masafumi's isolated laboratory. The Oracle's appearance hadn't been factored in.

As she left, with orders for Omi to call her when he found something, she overheard Yohji grousing to Aya. She kept in the shadow of a door and listened in. Obviously, Ken hadn't shown up last night and was missing. He wasn't answering his cell phone, and Yohji went into a tirade of other oddities about Ken's recent behavior.

Manx scowled to herself and slipped out the back door to the flower shop. She found no sign of his motorcycle, so she went to get some coffee and wait. Ken did come back, but it wasn't long before she watched him run back out of the flower shop, looking shaken.

She took a sip of coffee and re-prioritized her check list. Ken had suddenly moved to the top.

* * *

Thursday came too soon for Ken. He had solidified his resolve to not meet Crawford, but his integrity required him to break off the illicit affair face-to-face. He hated to admit it to himself, but the thought of seeing Crawford was thrilling and nerve-wracking. He tried to sort out how much he was deceiving himself when he realized, with some dismay, he was halfway to the hotel that evening.

He slowed his motorcycle, but didn't turn back. He shook his head slightly as he stiffened his resolve. No more, it was too dangerous. Over the last few days the other Weiss members seemed aloof towards him; that sparked all sorts of suspicions in Ken's mind, but there were no direct accusations. That aloof treatment helped Ken maintain his resolve to break it off with Crawford, but this morning several emotions clouded that resolve.

By the time he found himself in the parking garage, Ken's resolve was weakened. He put down the kickstand and marched towards the lobby, fists clenched. He was going to end this today, one way or the other.

* * *

"Oh... my..." Manx mumbled to herself before shutting off the ignition to her car. She had parked her car a fair distance back from Ken's motorcycle, she was a little nervous he was going to spot her, but he seemed as if he had a purpose that was distracting him from his surroundings. Her mind went back to Ken's troubles with Kase. He was keeping secrets of some sort like that time.

It certainly wasn't like Ken to just show up at a posh, Western style hotel, especially at dinner time. She fumbled in her glove box for the scope off of a rifle while her mind cast about for a reason for Ken to be here with no Weiss assignment, not even a flower delivery that she'd noticed.

Manx got out of her car after jamming the scope in her purse. Ken had left the parking garage by the way of a door labeled 'lobby.' She kept telling herself there was a reasonable explanation as she went across the street rather than follow him directly. She darted into an alleyway between two buildings facing the hotel.

Manx quickly got out the small scope from her purse and held it up to her eye. She could see him through the huge plate windows, obviously looking out of place among the few, well-dressed Westerners. A dark haired man in a cream colored suit and a gold tie approached Ken. She almost dropped the scope when recognition hit her: Schwarz's Oracle.

She shook her head slightly and concentrated on the scene unfolding in the lobby, it was brief and left more questions than it answered. Ken's eyes were intense, he said few words. The Oracle did most of the talking. Slowly, the Oracle moved his hand to Ken's left elbow and guided him towards the elevators. Ken made no move to stop, but had hesitating steps. They both got onto an elevator. Moments later, Manx saw the glowing numerals above the doors read twenty-three.

Her mind couldn't come up with one reason why Ken would meet a member of Schwarz. Manx started to theorize Ken was meeting the rest of Schwarz and handing them Kritiker secrets. It was just unlike Ken to be disloyal to the rest of Weiss, even with as much as he hated being an assassin. She started to worry, what if they had him manipulated some way? After all, Kritiker really didn't know the total extent of the Mastermind's powers.

She stuffed the scope back into her purse and darted across the street. She had a police badge, plenty of money, and sex appeal; those three things always worked on hotel desk clerks. She certainly had to get to the bottom of this and help Ken, if Schwarz had gotten leverage over him. Or she had to find a way to deal Ken, if he was complicit with Schwarz.

* * *

Ken paced back and forth, arms crossed, while Crawford put his tie back on. Crawford repressed a smirk when Ken's eyes flicked to his gun in his shoulder holster.

Crawford had lured Ken up to this room. It was a ploy to cut Ken off from trying to break their arrangement off. Ken would doubtlessly have enough courage in a public hotel lobby, but in a lone hotel room, Crawford was back in control. He hadn't given Ken a chance to speak; he quickly had Ken pinned on the bed.

No words, just quick, passionate sex that had left them both satiated. Crawford was only able to hold onto Ken for a few minutes, then the ex-soccer player pulled away and quickly dressed.

"You said you has something to tell me?" Crawford asked. Ken paused before speaking, eyes still glued to Crawford's gun. Crawford said softly, "Ken?"

Ken's eye snapped up to meet Crawford's. "I shouldn't have let you talk me into coming up here."

"More secluded," Crawford answered, taking his shoulder holster off slowly. He didn't want Ken to get any jumpier. He placed it on the dresser beside his jacket.

"This is it. The last time I can see you."

"Let me guess..."

"Let me talk!" Crawford shut his mouth, gave a small smile, and sat on the edge of the stiff bed. Ken took a deep breath and continued, "I know what I said last time, but something came up. I won't be seeing you any more."

"Something came up with Weiss?"

"I can't keep lying. It's not who I am," Ken said.

"I've always maintained you're free to go."

"The problem is you know too much." Ken's eyes narrowed, there was hostility there.

"Something happened?"

"You know what happened!" Ken blustered.

"I don't have telepathy. You'll need to elaborate," Crawford answered flatly.

"They almost have it figured out! Look, this whole thing was stupid, I was stupid for letting this whole thing happen. I also know Schwarz committed a murder. A Kritiker agent was killed and..."

"...and Kritiker is on alert."

"Stop finishing my sentences, damn it! You don't control me like those..."

Crawford's eyes narrowed and grew just as hot as Ken's. He was about to say the one word Crawford wouldn't tolerate: freaks. Over the last several months Ken seemed to have separated Crawford from the rest of Schwarz. It was the only way Ken could justify this relationship. Judging by Ken's silence and frosty gaze, Crawford imagined his own expression looked lethal. Obviously, Ken associated Crawford as Schwarz's leader once again.

Ken jumped up, his skin glowing bright red. "Fine! Why don't you go home to them. I'll stay on my side. That's it. We're just too damn different."

"True, I'm not confused about what I'm doing or my goals." Crawford slowly smiled; he knew he's won this whole game. Ken was torn and couldn't even resist a quick tryst two hours ago; now his emotions were boiling hot.

"You'd never change your goals for any reason." It was as if a cold slap of reality struck Ken.

"No." Crawford's answer was full of aplomb.

Ken bolted for the door, slamming it. Crawford left after him, grabbing his jacket and gun. Crawford wasn't finished just yet. He needed Ken to hand over Weiss. The timing was almost right.

* * *

She sat in her car and tried to piece together the information she had gotten from the hotel desk clerk. The room was registered to John Barton, a clear cover of Brad Crawford's. Also, the clerk had never even seen any others by the Schwarz descriptions. That lead Manx to infer the Oracle was hiding something. After all, usually Schwarz traveled in pairs or more.

To her chagrin, she found out that Ken had been there a few times before, each time to meet Crawford. The clerk remembered because Ken stuck out among the wealthy, Westerner clientèle. The desk clerk had a disapproving undertone when he mentioned this fact, there was something he was keeping back because it was too gauche to mention.

She left, not wanting to push things and cause scene, or tip off Crawford. So now Manx sat with her eyes glued to Ken's motorcycle. It was now almost nine o'clock, her worry was about to prod her out of her car. Two hours for any Weiss member was too long to be behind closed door with a Schwarz.

Finally, Ken moved through the dark, freezing Manx's hand on her car door latch. He lurched towards his motorcycle. Looking haggard and in a daze. She wondered if Crawford had drugged him somehow. Rather then leave her car, she hunkered down in her seat. She kept an eye on Ken, but also glanced around in case the Oracle appeared.

Her puzzlement grew when Ken's face became enraged. She gasped as he darted around concrete pillars and leaped in front of a speeding, red Austin-Healey. The car's breaks squealed, then it came to rest inches from Ken's knees. Manx lifted her eyes, she wasn't surprised to see Crawford was the driver.

Ken walked over to the open window and leaned in towards Crawford. He was about to say something, but Crawford held up a hand, a smug expression settled on the American's face. Manx strained to hear over the gentle hum of the car. She was aided by the echoing nature of the concrete parking garage.

She distinctly heard Crawford say, "I'm not worried because you'll come back to me. I know what it takes to make you come back to me when I want." That caused Ken's anger to fall away into a dismay. Ken flinched back as Crawford drove off.

She got lower in her seat as Ken wandered towards his motorcycle. After she heard the echoing motorcycle engine die away, she straightened up in her seat, turned the key in the ignition, and headed towards the police headquarters. Her mind began to churn over the implication of what she'd just heard, along with a two hour hotel visit. After all, she knew from Ken's dossier that he hadn't restricted himself to dating women exclusively. Before the girl named Yuriko, there had been Kase.

It had been Manx who secretly prodded Aya into keeping tabs on Ken when Kase showed back up. Then she talked Yohji into keeping tabs when Ken fell for Yuriko. This, though, if the implications were true, would be something the other Weiss members shouldn't be exposed to, just yet. She'd have to report this to Persia and then let Kritiker handle this with care.

To be continued.


	11. Chapter 11

Title: Round and Round, part 11

Author's Notes: Enjoy.

Beta Reader: My wonderful hubby, WingedPanther73. Thanks for putting up with this slashy-fic!

Word Count = 3,136

August 18, 2011 2:40 pm

Crawford relaxed his mind when a subtle buzzing pressed in; he up-shifted his car and merged with traffic. After that, he formed the thought, _:What is it?:_

_ :Masafumi just flew into town. Old Man Takatori is having a meeting with him and his filthy whores.:_

"Damn!" Crawford swore. His phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. He answered his phone, calmly, "Crawford here."

"Where are you?" Takatori asked, gruff as always.

"Downtown. I had to run an errand for Eszett," Crawford lied, pushing his game with Ken out of his mind.

"Get here, now," Takatori ordered. Then the line went dead. Crawford tucked his phone away and turned down a side street short cut.

_:Meet me at Takatori's office. Bring everyone.: _Schuldig withdrew from Crawford's mind. Crawford inhaled deeply when a faint trickle of a vision happened. Takatori and his son were going to have a fight. Things where going to turn ugly.

His skin started to tingle, it felt as if this was a calm before a storm.

* * *

Ken walked upstairs to the apartment above the flower shop. Aya was in the living room watching the news and sipping pungent tea. Ken wasn't surprised, but he was hoping to not run into any of his teammates.

"Manx is looking for you," Aya said before Ken had a chance to remove his jacket.

"What does she want?" Ken asked, aggravated. He wanted time to think about his situation with Crawford, if he should just embrace his relationship or attempt to reject the American clairvoyant again. He'd rather put off his obligation to Weiss at the moment.

"Don't know. She's at the coffee shop," Aya replied, picking up a book. Ken let out a deep sigh, turned around and headed back down to the alleyway. He jogged across the busy street towards the warm glow of the coffee shop. He easily spotted Manx by her hair.

He took a seat across from her in the booth. She had no coffee in front of her and her expression was grim. Her eyes grew fierce when she looked at him.

"Aya said you wanted to see me?"

"I followed you earlier tonight."

"Wha... why?" Ken felt the color drain from his face.

"Because Persia thinks there's a leak that Schwarz is exploiting. I wasn't sure, but now I am after seeing you meet a Schwarz member at a hotel."

A cold wave of panic hit Ken's stomach. He clenched his hands together and lowered his eyes. His mind tacked around for a way out, there was none. He knew this was a possibility, but it was one he pushed out of thoughts the longer he maintained his tryst with Crawford.

"How could you?" Manx snapped when Ken didn't respond.

"It's not what you think."

"Listen, if you went willingly, that's one thing, and it will be dealt with. But, Ken..." Her softening voice caused Ken to look at her again. Her face switched from anger to concern. "But if what happened was against your will, if Schwarz has done something to you, I need to know. You can help me set a trap for Schwarz. I'll be circumspect about what I know, if you agree to help me."

He let out a huff of air. If he were honest with her, there would be no telling what Kritiker would do. They were dealing with the death of an agent, suspecting Schwarz involvement. His relationship with Crawford would deem him guilty. If he lied, he'd be obligated to help Manx catch Crawford or, worse, kill him. It was a choice he hadn't been prepared for: Crawford's safety or his own. His heart thudded painfully as he committed to his choice.

"I won't help you." A weigh lifted off his shoulders.

"You can't be serious? You're engaged in a willing affair with the Oracle?"

"Yes," he answered softly. Manx's disapproving expression was back. Her lips pressed together tightly.

"Tell me how badly you've compromised Weiss. Now. And don't leave out anything."

"I've never once betrayed Weiss or Kritiker. I've done nothing to put them in danger."

"You'll be questioned about that later. Best come clean now. And also tell me about your contact with the Schwarz team."

"It's just been Crawford and me... meeting. I don't think his guys know about me. I'm telling the truth, though. I didn't do anything to harm Weiss or anyone else. I made sure of that"

"Then your involvement with the Oracle was just... physical?" Ken blushed and nodded at her question. "I don't know that I can trust you, Ken. A friend of mine died because of Schwarz, most likely Crawford gave the orders."

Ken couldn't deny that. He had never deluded himself into believing Crawford had pure hands or pure intentions.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Several months, but I'm trying to stop meeting him," Ken said.

She nodded, rose, and grabbed her purse. "Since you won't help me eliminate the Oracle, I have to turn you over to Kritiker." Ken sighed and nodded at her decision. "Go back to your loft, gather your weapons, and tell Aya you're quiting. Do not tell Aya any details about this. Don't try to run off. I have Burman and Botan watching to make sure you go peacefully. If you don't, Weiss' top priority will be to kill the Oracle to seal this leak. Understand? When we get downtown, I'll inform Persia about this whole thing."

"Downtown?"

"Yes. Uma Sanatorium, it's run by Kritiker. It's used for interrogations. Ken, you've given me no choice."

"Can't you appeal to Persia?" He looked for any sign of hope from Manx, but she was so grave.

"He'd order the same. Ken, you've given me no choice. Considering Josie's death, my hands are tied."

He swallowed and stood slowly on shaky feet. "I'll go. Just don't put out a hit on Crawford."

* * *

"...and I want to know what Crawford was doing at my lab!" Masafumi said, pointing a finger toward the clairvoyant. The man then slammed his fist on his father's desk. Reiji raised an eyebrow and took another drag from his cigar.

Crawford looked around the room. Schreient was standing across the office, all looked at Crawford with murderous rage. He was grateful he wasn't a telepath at that moment. He glanced over to the rest of Schwarz and returned Schuldig's smirk.

"Listen, son, you've been using my money to fund your project. If I have..."

Crawford's eyes unfocused, he could no longer hear the bickering Takatoris. The premonition hit him hard, almost with a blinding headache. He saw the same vision from the first night he had dinner with Ken. The insane asylum again.

Once again, the Balinese would rage at Crawford and plan to murder him. The Weiss assassin would then accuse him of destroying Ken's life. Crawford would insist it was Ken's loyalty and honesty that destroyed everything Weiss and Schwarz were. Crawford's malevolence would grow; he would loft the gun at Balinese and demand to know in which sanatorium Kritiker had put Ken.

But now more hit Crawford. Ken was strapped down to a bed, a ruined mind due to a lobotomy. A sickness and overwhelming fury would come to Crawford. And then he would raise his gun to Ken's forehead and pull the trigger. The loud bang broke his trance before he saw Ken dead.

Schuldig was now wearing a concerned expression. _:Brad?: _

He turned to the Takatoris and said, "I've got an urgent matter I must attend to."

"Not until you explain what you were doing in my lab."

"And why you let Siberian go," Hell chimed in. "Do you have some secret alliance?"

"Not hardly. And this can't wait. I'll be back quickly," Crawford said, reaching for his phone in his suit pocket.

"Make it quick," Reiji snapped, and waved Crawford towards the door.

_:Where are you going, Brad?:_

_ :Just keep control of things here.:_

* * *

Ken shoved some of his clothing in a duffel bag. He fought to keep his hands from trembling. Aya had taken the quick resignation with aplomb and left after telling Ken to leave the loft and shop keys on the kitchen table. Nothing more, no questions about anything, which Ken was grateful for.

Ken started when his cell phone rang. He dug it out from his jeans' pocket and wasn't surprised to see Crawford's number. He knew the right thing would be to ignore it, but he was certain this would be the last chance to talk to Crawford for a very long time.

"Brad," he answered, sitting on his bed.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at home. For now," he answered, mulling over how to break the news to Crawford.

"Something has happened. What happened?"

"Kritiker found out. An agent followed me tonight. I have to go meet with them."

"I had a vision. You need to get away. You'll never leave if they get you to that asylum."

Ken slightly flinched and asked, "How did you know Uma was where they're taking me? Your vision?"

"Yes."

"I have to go with them, otherwise they'd target you. I refused to lie and tell them you brainwashed me. She hoped you'd manipulated me and she was going to get me to set a trap for you. I refused to do that."

"I can handle myself," he said dryly. "So don't worry about me. Get yourself out of the situation. Only bad things will happen once you hand yourself over to them. Once you go, the future will be set."

"Listen, I can handle this. Let me talk to them and explain myself. Let me get this over with. Good bye. I'll call you when I can," Ken said and quickly hit the disconnect button with his thumb.

He hopped off the bed, jammed his phone in his pocket, and continued his packing. He steadied his breathing and wondered if Crawford's premonition was right. He shook his head. Manx was harsh with him, but she wouldn't do anything to actually harm him.

* * *

Ken slipped up and Crawford was grateful. He said the word 'Uma.' Crawford consulted his smart phone and found the asylum they were taking Ken to. He marched to the parking garage as his brain manufactured a plan to free Ken.

_:Hey, I sense you're leaving. Where are you going. The Takatoris are fighting again.: _

_ :I've got some business with Kritiker to deal with. Tell Takatori I have to reschedule for tomorrow. Tell him that Eszett requested I run an errand. He'll accommodate me for their orders. He's too greedy for Eszett's power.: _

_ :You're letting a Mundane lead you around. It's very unbecoming.:_

_ :Leave it alone, Schuldig, or you'll regret it.:_

_ :Fine, go tango with Kritiker. I'll handle things here.:_

Crawford started his car and peeled out of the parking garage. He wove his car in and out of traffic. Fortunately, the asylum was very close. His plans solidified and the bubbles of a premonition struck again.

If he went to save Ken, he'd be shot by a redheaded woman, other than that, he couldn't see success or failure. Regardless, he had let things go on with Ken too long. Now he was in danger of losing control over that particular future. That was something Crawford's ego wouldn't allow.

* * *

Ken looked over to Manx. She was rather cool towards him, concentrating on her driving. He slouched in the seat, relieved it was just the two of them. His mind drifted to the kids he coached. He wondered what they'd be told.

His mind jolted back as Manx slammed on the brakes. She swore as he noticed Crawford's distinctive car blocking the narrow, empty road. Crawford stood there in a white dress shirt and white slacks. The headlights of Manx's car gave him an eerie glow.

Ken instantly felt elated that Crawford had pursued him, but he quickly got aggravated. Crawford's appearance would only make things worse.

Crawford raised his arm, a gun in his hand, and pointed it at Ken. Ken's heart pounded painfully. Shattering glass flew around Ken as a hot sting hit his shoulder. A second hot sting hit his arm. Ken blacked out instantly and slumped forward.

* * *

Manx jumped from her car with the ruined windshield and drew her gun. She crouched behind her open car door. Glancing at Ken, his shirt was bloody and he was unresponsive.

"Freeze! You're under arrest!" she shouted, training her gun on the Oracle.

The man chuckled and pushed his glasses high on his nose. "Just getting rid of something worthless to me. No matter how hard I tried, he just wouldn't crack and help me set up Weiss."

"What? He didn't betray Weiss?" Guilt washed over her, realizing she was about to commit Ken for no reason. Now that action had gotten him shot.

"Not once would he reveal any secrets. Now I couldn't risk you turning him against me."

She watched him turn to get in his car. Anger burned hot when she glanced over to Ken. "Freeze, you traitor! How could you do something like this to him?"

"Because he's expendable like all of Weiss. You see him that way, too. Weren't you going to throw him to the wolves?" The Oracle shrugged, put his gun in his shoulder holster, and said, "He's better off this way."

"Monster!" She screamed and squeezed the trigger several times as he quickly got in his car. The small red car speed off. She stood slowly, not sure if she'd hit the Oracle. She gasped and shouted, "Ken!"

He groaned weakly and tried to raise his left hand. She quickly retrieved her cell phone and dialed for help.

* * *

"Brad, Brad, Brad. No sex is worth taking a bullet." Schuldig was still gloating when they got home from Takatori's personal doctor. Crawford's shoulder was stiff. The woman had wounded him from behind in the left shoulder. Overall, it wasn't serious.

"Leave it alone, Schuldig. It's finished now."

"I guess shooting your lover is one way to break up," Schuldig said, following Crawford through the front door. Nagi sprang off the sofa, giving him a worried look. Schuldig waved Nagi back down and said, "He's fine, I told you."

"Where's Farfarello?" Crawford asked.

"He's following Schreient. I figured it'll be a good idea, because they aren't going to let this thing with Masafumi's lab drop," Schuldig explained.

"Good. We'll take care of them tomorrow. Why don't you get to bed, Nagi. It's late," Crawford suggest.

"I'm glad you're okay," Nagi said and left towards his bedroom.

Crawford headed down the hallway, as well. "Going to go nurse your wounds?" Schuldig asked. Crawford wanted to beat the smugness out of Schuldig.

He pushed his glasses up and said, "Be ready tomorrow to concentrate on Schreient. Weiss won't be an issue for a while."

He turned from Schuldig and marched to his home office and slammed the door. He fell into the chair behind the desk and turned on his computer. He fixed himself a scotch, and brought up the music player. He clicked on that one particular Joy Division song that had played the night after his first dinner with Ken.

He wouldn't let love tear him apart like the song's refrain echoed. He'd focus and get back to the work of creating a world where Talents ruled Mundanes. He just hoped Ken would grow to hate him for what he'd done, so he wouldn't be distracted from Schwarz again.

* * *

Ken stiffly moved down the alleyway behind the flower shop. He hoisted a bag of trash into the dumpster, his wounds still painful after a week. This was his first day working at the shop, and Manx said it would be another two weeks before she assigned him a mission.

He frowned at the thought of Manx. When he woke up at the hospital it was just her by his bedside. She had told him what Crawford had said and it crushed him horribly. It was a game and Ken had suddenly become a liability. She was very remorseful and kind. She covered up his affair to Persia and his Weiss teammates. She also claimed to Weiss that Ken's shooting was a random act during a covert mission.

With her cover, she gave a stern warning to him to never let anything like that happen again. Ken promised her it wouldn't. And he intended to keep his word. Especially, since Crawford's attempted murder. Ken paused and leaned against the brick wall facing the dumpster.

He remember the time Crawford shot at him in Masafumi's lab. Something wasn't right. If Crawford truly wanted Ken dead, he would be. Crawford's abilities would let him know he had failed. A glimmer of hope came to the surface. Ken remembered that first, passionate kiss; he was still damp from the rain and chilled, but Crawford had taken his mind off of that. He wanted to relive that one moment. The thrill and uncertainly was intoxicating.

He had his cell phone in his hand before thinking about it. He hesitated for a moment. He hadn't had any contact with Crawford since the shooting, and all he had to go on was what Manx told him. What if Crawford had been right about what was going to happen and was trying to save him from Kritiker? Was Crawford trying to cast doubt in Manx's mind and get her to relent on her judgment? Ken wasn't sure, but he was willing to give Crawford credit for thinking of something that devious.

Ken threw out caution and dialed Crawford's number. He didn't breath until the click and then the feminine tone announced, "This number has been disconnect. No forwarding number is available. This number has been disconnect. No forwarding number is available."

Ken's thumb hit the disconnect and he put his phone away. He left the alleyway towards the shop, disquieted and craving answers.

End.

Special thanks to WingedPanther73, who really gave me this great idea for this ending. I was totally stumped, now I'm totally grateful. I really enjoyed writing this story so much. Ken is certainly one of my favorite characters to work with. Thanks for your patience with me turning this one out. I really appreciate all of you for taking the time to read. Thanks so much.


End file.
